


Above the Dragon

by grassdust



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Disaster bi Sokka, Eventual Smut, Eventual miscommunication, Friends to Lovers, Gay Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Zuko's a dancer bumming around the jasmine dragon, and sokka's a boy who loves to cook with a shitty warehouse job, bone app the teeth y'all, camboy au, mention of emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 67,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24997183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassdust/pseuds/grassdust
Summary: Zuko and Sokka are a few twenty-something roommates living peacefully (most of the time) above the Jasmine Dragon. Zuko’s forward-thinking and level-headed, so when he fails to keep his camming job a secret, learning that one of his best friends is totally down to cam with him definitely doesn’t turn his world completely and utterly upside down.
Relationships: Past Jetko - Relationship, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), background Kataang - Relationship, like reaalllly rough past jetko
Comments: 518
Kudos: 1787





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So like a lot of people the avatar renaissance has opened my third eye to the gospel of Zukka and this is the result of that lmao. enjoy

Zuko awakens to the smell of garlic wafting through the cool air of his bedroom. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust as they open, darting from surface to clothing covered surface in search of the source of said odor. He doesn’t know why he’s looking around, as if the answer is in his room; maybe his brain hasn’t quite woken up enough yet. Zuko gathers enough energy to throw the heavy, red duvet off his body and stretch as he inhales deeply, now picking up on a few different notes within the garlic. 

Onion, duh, he should’ve picked up on that one. And maybe—he sniffs again—turmeric? He can’t tell from this far away. It's all molding into a singular, boisterous odor that can’t be identified and broken down into the sum of its parts. 

It reminds Zuko that he hasn’t had breakfast yet. The smell of cooking food instantly makes his stomach growl, seemingly angry at its own emptiness. He glances back at the glowing clock beside his bed and realizes that this is a pretty late start for him. He’s become incredibly used to waking up at five in the morning to go down and open the tea shop. Dragging himself out of bed at nearly nine was almost unheard of for him. 

Zuko assumes Iroh must have decided to take pity on him this week for some reason; he’s scheduled to go in at eleven today. While he normally didn’t care for mid shifts, after opening for four days in a row, he won’t complain about being given a break for once. 

When the rumbling in his abdomen gets to be too much, Zuko finally shakes off the last few remnants of his sleep. He scours the small dunes of clothes scattered around his floor and stops when he finds a pair of maroon sweatpants that don’t look  _ too _ wrinkled. He slips them on over his boxers and gathers his hair as he starts down the hall, tying it back into a loose ponytail that falls just below his shoulders. 

As he travels down the hall, he glances in Sokka’s bedroom and clothes slightly poking out of the doorframe. Zuko looks around the disaster area that his roommate lives in and slowly reaches out to pull the door shut, gently kicking a strewn t-shirt back behind it. He can’t comprehend how Sokka can function when he can’t even see the floor. Zuko certainly wasn’t the neatest person on earth, he was a tad lazy about laundry and had a tendency to let it pile up in the corners of his room, but that was about the extent of his messiness. Sokka’s bedroom made him anxious just to think about being in, and he’s glad that his habits don’t bleed out into the common area where it would  _ actually  _ be a problem.

Sokka is wiping sweat off his brow when Zuko finally enters the kitchen. He’s barely acknowledged as Sokka carefully leans over the stove, eying the contents of the pan with the focus of a hawk. Zuko brushes past him to get to the pantry across the room, yawning as he lazily tugs open its doors. He rummages through for the plain, brown box he pulls out every morning and kicks the cabinet shut once he removes it from its place. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” 

Zuko’s eyes cut over to Sokka with a tired glance. “Making breakfast.” 

“You’re gonna have that plain, flavorless oatmeal while I’m over here creating a culinary masterpiece?” 

Zuko cranes his neck back, eyeing the stovetop. “I don’t like eggs.” 

“Ahh, but you haven’t had  _ my  _ eggs though.” Sokka’s met with a mildly disgusted glance and he clears his throat. “That came out sounding way grosser than I intended but I’m serious. These bad boys are carefully seasoned and sauteed with shallots in imported truffle oil. You  _ have  _ to try it.” 

“Sokka, I don’t—“ 

Before he can get a word out, his roommate fishes through the drawers for any utensil he can grab quickly enough. Sokka takes hold of a fork and cuts off a sizable piece of the omelet, forcing it in Zuko’s direction. 

“ _ C’mon,  _ just a taste.” 

“I’m not gonna like it.” 

“You won’t know that for sure unless you try it!” 

This is far from the first time Zuko’s had this kind of back and forth with Sokka, and certainly not the last. He knows by now that when it comes to his cooking, Sokka’s a particular kind of determined. Nine times out of ten, Zuko can wriggle his way out of having to try something his picky brain insists he won’t enjoy. He’d been caught at one of his weak moments, however. He was far too groggy to debate with Sokka this time.

Zuko reaches out for the fork, hesitantly bringing it towards his face as Sokka watches on with wide, anticipating eyes. Exactly what Zuko expects happens, the moment the bite of omelet in his mouth, he gags involuntarily. His hand covers his mouth as he quickly spits into it, desperate to avoid a second round of acid leaping into his throat. Sokka’s face goes completely white. He watches as Zuko takes the nearest glass and runs it under the faucet, swallowing down gulps until the urge to puke is finally out of his system. 

“Jeez.” Sokka finally says, defeated. “Did you really have to spit it out? That felt a little dramatic.” 

“I was trying to tell you beforehand that I don’t like eggs because of the  _ texture,  _ not the flavor.” Zuko clarifies. “I haven’t my entire life. Anytime I try to have them now, I gag, which is what I was trying to say before you forced me to eat it.” 

“Okay, okay. I get it, my bad.” Sokka admits, turning back towards the stove. “But, this does provide me with a new challenge of trying to prepare eggs in a way that you’d enjoy, so thank you for that.” 

“Good luck with that.” Zuko replies coldly, bending over to search through the fridge. “Where’s the almond milk?” 

“About that,” Sokka starts. “Aang gave me these weird vegan chocolate chip cookies last night and despite the fact that they tasted surprisingly good, they were horrifically, terribly, and  _ hauntingly _ dry.”

“So you drank it.” Zuko states plainly. 

“I did, but I  _ promise  _ that I’ll pay you back with two cartons the next time I go grocery shopping—“ 

His apology falls short at the sound of a groan erupting from Zuko’s mouth. “You have an entire  _ gallon  _ of milk in the fridge.” 

“I know, but let’s be real, almond milk is  _ delicious _ .” Sokka flashes a grin. “You and Aang truly have enlightened me to the work of the humble almond. Honestly, I might have to give up my beloved nightly glass of two percent for some glorified nut water—“ 

“That’s wonderful,” Zuko cuts him off. “But the next time you drink or eat my food without my explicit permission, I’m tearing you a new one.” 

Sokka wriggles his eyebrows and smiles suggestively. “Oooh,  _ kinky _ . I like it.”

“Shut up.” he says, padding over to the sink. “I actually  _ needed  _ that. You know, so I’m not in gastrointestinal distress for the rest of the day?” 

“Listen, it isn’t my fault that you were cursed with the ‘dairy gives me explosive gas’ gene.” Sokka says. “Can’t you just run downstairs and grab some from the tea shop or something?” 

Zuko looks over at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious? That’s inventory, Sokka, inventory that my uncle has to pay for. I can’t just go down and just take whatever I want. It’s not a grocery store.” 

Sokka stares back at him, blinking. “You can’t ask for  _ one _ glass? Iroh can’t spare  _ eight ounces  _ of almond milk?” 

He hesitates. “He probably can, but that isn’t the point.” 

“Look, I’ll go down and get it for you if it means you’ll stop whining about it.” Sokka says, cautiously scraping the omelet out onto a plate. “But if not, I’m going to enjoy my absolutely delicious, scrumptious, _ delectable _ breakfast while watching my morning crime dramas on the couch. You and your lukewarm, mushy oatmeal are free to join me if you’d like.” 

With that, Sokka saunters out of the kitchen with a dramatic and unnecessary flair. Zuko rolls his eyes and looks back into the fridge, scouring its interior to see if he can find something else that even remotely qualifies as breakfast. It takes a few seconds for him to see it, but when he does, a mischievous smirk creeps across his face. He reaches forward and removes a blue-lidded Tupperware dish, discarding the post-it note with Sokka’s name written in big, chicken scratch letters. Zuko’s not even entirely sure what it is, but it’s Sokka’s, and that was all that really mattered. 

He grabs a fork and heads out into the living room to flop down across from Sokka, legs up on the couch cushion and container perched in his lap. He’s overwhelmed by the mixture of smells wafting up from Sokka’s plate; it’s wave after wave of pungent onion followed by the sulfurous odor of the eggs. Zuko tries not to let it crack his facade as he pokes the fork into the dish, purposefully drawing Sokka’s attention as it slides past his lips. 

“So, how are things going over at the warehouse?” he asks, nonchalantly chewing what he now recognizes as the apple crumble Sokka had made (and wouldn’t shut up about) a few days ago. 

Sokka groans as he talks through a mouthful of food. “Dogshit, per usual.” he replies. “Suki and I are the most competent people there and it sucks.” 

“You’re upset that you’re a good worker?” 

“No, genius, I’m upset that we’re expected to pick up everyone else’s slack because, unlike them, Suki and I don’t share one collective brain cell and know how to actually get shit done,” he says, looking over. “I just wish that even one other person would—is that my apple crumble?!”

Zuko nods and swallows another bite. “Yep.” 

“Zuko! I was saving that for later!” Sokka whines, reaching for the Tupperware. “That was gonna be my midnight snack!” 

“Well isn’t that unfortunate.” Zuko raises a foot, pushing back against Sokka’s shoulder to keep him subdued. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you drank my breakfast.”

“How is that an even trade off?! You can go out and buy more almond milk! I put my blood sweat and tears into that crumble!” 

“Believe me, it shows. This is delicious.” He gives him one last push until he’s back on the opposite side of the couch. “I’m sure that the next time you make it, it’ll be even better.” 

The glare Sokka gives him could burn a hole through the wall. “You’re  _ unbelievably _ petty, you know that?” 

“I’m aware.” He replies, pursing his lips. “Actually, I take it back. This is good, but you went a little heavy on the butter.” 

“Oh, fuck off!” Sokka snaps, turning his attention back to the plate in his own lap. “Now you’re just trying to get under my skin.” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

He’s completely right, Zuko’s being difficult solely for the sake of working his nerves. It’s a minor character flaw, in his opinion. He could’ve been petty about other things, plenty of them far more trivial than this particular situation. For Sokka’s own sanity, however, Zuko spares him the theatrics of it all. It was relatively easy for him to get worked up, and the last thing Zuko wants is to be responsible for Sokka having a stress-induced heart attack from being pushed too far.

Zuko attempts to turn his attention towards the television despite not having much interest in what’s on it. His efforts fall short when the intrusive sound of bells chimes one after another from Sokka’s phone. 

“You know, there’s this neat feature on most smartphones called ‘silent mode’.” He says sarcastically. 

“Zuko, if I left my phone on silent, no one would ever hear from me again.” Sokka replies, lifting the device from the coffee table. “Do you have any idea how short my attention span is? It takes me two seconds to forget I’ve got something on the stove. If I couldn’t hear my phone, I’d be completely unreachable to the public. Off the grid, practically.” 

“Sure.” Zuko leans on the arm of the couch. “It’s work, I’m assuming?” 

“Nah, the gang.” He replies, not looking up as his thumbs tap out a message. “We’re trying to decide on where we’re gonna grab a bite tonight before the movies. Aang and I keep going back and forth about it.” 

Zuko’s eyes fall to the floor. They  _ were  _ all going out tonight, weren’t they? “I see.” 

“He really wants to go to someplace with a ‘killer veggie burger’, but it’s like half an hour from the theater. It wouldn’t make any sense.” Sokka hits send on another message before tossing his phone aside. “You sure you don’t wanna come tonight? We all miss you.” He says. “Friday movie nights just ain’t the same without that patented brooding Zuko energy.” 

“I wish I could, but I’ve got something I need to do later.” Zuko replies, his gaze still on the carpet. “Maybe some other time.” 

“Oh come on, you’ve got something to do every Friday night.” Sokka points at him with his fork. “Last week it was Iroh needing the tea shop’s bathroom repainted, the week before that you said you had twisted your ankle while you were rehearsing, what’s your excuse today? Hmm?” 

Zuko’s lips tighten into a line. “Fridays just aren’t good for me anymore. Sundays are much better. I’m free pretty much all day.” 

“I always work weekends, Zuko.” Sokka tells him. “And Katara has an eight a.m. class on Mondays. Even if we could go out on a Sunday evening, she’d be whining the whole night about how we can’t stay out too late. It’s a lose-lose situation.” 

“Well, I was just trying to be solution-oriented.”

Sokka looks over at him, his arms folded across his chest and eyes searching somewhere on Zuko’s torso that he can’t quite identify. He leans over a bit closer, narrowing his vision as he inspects the exposed skin of Zuko’s neck. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, staring at Sokka. 

“Checking for hickies.” The other replies, smirking. “I think you’re hiding something. Maybe like, oh I don’t know, a new, secret boyfriend that you’re too nervous to tell the rest of the gang about?” 

Zuko’s face goes hot. “I am  _ not _ seeing anyone right now—“ 

“Is he tall? Strong? Handsome?” Sokka teases. “Charming? Dashing? A sweet-talker?” 

“Sokka,  _ stop _ .” 

“Maybe he’s weird, is that why you’re keeping him a secret?’ 

“I said I’m not seeing anyone!” Zuko snaps, louder this time. “Like I said, I’m just busy. I’ll catch up with you guys some other time.” 

Sokka’s lips are pulled tight as if he’s tempted to say something else, but he shrugs instead, sitting back against the couch. “Suit yourself. We’re going to see that new possession movie everyone’s losing their minds about right now and I personally think it’s gonna be awesome.” 

“You know I don’t like horror movies.” 

“Oh don’t worry, if you change your mind, I’ll be there to hold your hand the whole time.” Sokka teases, nudging his arm. “You can even hide behind my shoulder if it gets too scary for you.” 

“You’re a jackass.” Zuko says as he stands, empty container in hand. “Tell everyone else I said ‘hi’ tonight.” 

“Will do,” Sokka waves at him as he walks back towards the kitchen. “Don’t have too much fun with your mystery man, Casanova.” 

He hears him grunt something to the effect of ‘shut the hell up’ as his voice fades into the distance. He knows Zuko has to work in a little bit and assumes he’s probably going to start his unnecessarily extensive getting-ready routine. It doesn’t quite make sense to Sokka, but hey if Zuko wants to spend twenty minutes washing and conditioning his hair with that floral fancy shampoo Katara recommended for him, then that was his choice. 

Sokka has the day off, and as he’s usually bored without Zuko around to pester, he turns his focus back to the television in the hopes that flipping through Netflix enough will present him with something to occupy his time. He settles comfortably into the well-defined groove of the couch to watch old episodes of “1000 Ways to Die,” inevitably for several hours.

* * *

It’s particularly quiet in the Jasmine Dragon today, which strikes Zuko as odd. 

Usually, lunchtime on a Friday had students and nurses from the nearby university coming in droves to order endlessly complicated drinks and the occasional pastry. Seeing only a few groups of people sitting at the short, rustic tables across the dining room surprised him to say the least. He’s not exactly complaining, however. He thinks he might actually get to take a break today given how slow it is, and he can already feel his bed against his back as he lies down for a few minutes of relief from standing all day. 

“Iced hibiscus green tea for Lin!” Zuko calls across the shop, tearing half the paper off a straw as he pokes it through the lid. “Iced hibiscus green tea, your order is ready!” He looks back over his shoulder when none of the customers seated seem to move. “Toph, do you remember who ordered this?” 

Toph leans onto the counter, aimlessly fiddling with a stray coffee stirrer. “She had a really shrill voice and her hands were clammy. I felt them when she handed me her credit card.” 

Zuko lowers his lids. “How are her clammy hands supposed to help me figure out who ordered this tea? Are you sure you got her name right?” 

“Yes, I  _ am _ , Zuko.” She insists. “The most important thing doing this whole, y’know,” she gestures widely to the register, “‘blind cashier thing’, is that I have to listen  _ very  _ carefully. Her name was Lin, I’m one hundred percent sure.” 

He takes another glance across the restaurant, looking for anyone who gives off the air that they might have sweaty hands and a grating voice. He spots a couple sitting in the corner by the window, but they already have their drinks. There are two women sitting on opposite sides of the cafe, however, neither of them seem particularly interested in anything aside from their laptops. A tired sigh falls from Zuko’s mouth as he turns away from the counter, reaching around his waist to undo his apron. 

“I’m going upstairs to take my twenty.” He says, tossing it on a stray crate. “Call me if things get crazy down here.” 

She waves in his direction. “Please, you’re fine. Iroh’s here and he’d come help me tie my  _ shoe  _ if I needed it. Go enjoy your break, Zucchini.” 

He nods, making his way around the counter. “I never said you could call me that, you know.” 

Toph cocks her head. “And yet I still do. Funny how that works.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes and chuckles to himself as he walks away. He isn’t entirely sure whether or not that nickname actually  _ does  _ bother him; coming from anyone else, he probably would’ve shut it down from the beginning. There’s something endearing, however, about the way Toph says it. It’s teasing, but in a loving way. Zuko can’t quite describe it, but he knows for a fact that it bothers him far less than when his sister mockingly calls him “Zuzu” at every given chance. 

Zuko’s so focused on racing upstairs that he narrowly misses colliding directly with Iroh in the doorway to the building’s upper level. He saves the medium sized box in his uncle’s hand from tumbling to the ground in one quick movement and quickly hands it back, an apology now spilling from his mouth. 

“Uncle—I didn’t see you.” He says. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention to where I was going.” 

Iroh waves him off. “All is well, Nephew. Nothing in this box is fragile, so you have nothing to worry about.” He tells him. “You know, I received a few packages in the mail last week, and I took this box up to my apartment by mistake. I found the missing shipment of oolong we lost last week! It was hiding behind my radiator—“ 

“Oh wow. That’s not good.”

“I know!” Iroh exclaims. “It could’ve been terrible. If this caught on fire, then we would have lost an entire month’s worth of tea. Very  _ delicious _ tea, at that—“ 

_ ‘Or the entire building could’ve burned down, but of course, we have to think of the tea first.’ _

Zuko pushes the thought to the back of his mind and chuckles instead. Iroh laughs along with him and takes a better grip on the box, glancing over at the counter. 

“I assume you are going on your break now?” 

Zuko nods. “If that’s okay. It’s not very busy right now and Toph said she’d be alright.” 

Iroh nods back. “If Toph says she will be alright, then I trust her judgment,” he says. “Despite the challenges that initially presented themselves, she is one of the best employees here in my opinion, but don’t tell Teo I told you that.” 

“I told you she’d be a good addition.” Zuko replies. “I’m glad Toph’s doing so well in your eyes.” 

“She’s doing wonderfully.” Iroh smiles. “You know, I thought about asking your friend Sokka if he was looking for a part-time job. Sometimes, he brings these lovely desserts down to my apartment and I think he would make a wonderful baker.” 

Zuko goes pale. “Sokka’s definitely too busy with work.” 

“You think so?” Iroh asks, disappointed. “Hm. That is unfortunate. I’d love to have him.” 

“I know you would, but Sokka’s already got a lot on his plate. I don’t know if he could do this on top of all that.” 

Zuko doesn’t even truly know what Sokka’s workload is like. He has a rough idea from hearing him complain about it nearly every night when he gets home, but it wasn’t as if Sokka was divulging every single detail of his work day to him. Zuko's urge to speak on his behalf is solely fueled by his astronomical aversion to working with someone he lives with. He already has to deal with Sokka’s less than pleasant traits in his own home. There was no way in hell he could deal with all the little nitpicky things Sokka did that irritated him at his  _ job _ . 

“I see.” Iroh responds, a bit deflated. “Well, that’s too bad. But good for you! I am sure you are living in luxury with such a good cook around the house.”

Zuko smiles despite internally wishing that his uncle would step just a  _ foot _ to the left so he could get by. He’ll have to come back down and stand on his feet for another three hours after his break, so he’s more than just a  _ little _ bit antsy to savor those twenty minutes one by one. 

“Oh, I just remembered, I was going to ask a possible favor of you tonight.” 

Zuko inhales sharply. A “favor”. He knows what that’s code for. Someone’s called out, and he’s five seconds away from being coaxed into a ten hour shift.

“I can’t close tonight, Uncle.” He says quickly. “I have plans.” 

Iroh doesn’t exactly look satisfied, but not necessarily annoyed either. He nods and finally steps out of the doorway, looking back over his shoulder with a sullen expression. “That’s fine, I understand. I hope you and your friends enjoy yourselves tonight.” 

Zuko wants to correct him, but he has to fight back the urge. What was he supposed to say?  _ ‘Actually, I’m not going out anywhere tonight. I’m just gonna be sitting in my room alone for an hour wishing I  _ **_could_ ** _ go out with my friends.’  _

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Zuko says instead, “I won’t be long, I promise.” 

Iroh nods and he continues up the stairs, fumbling in his pocket for his keys as he approaches his apartment door. He swiftly walks to his bedroom before falling back onto his bed, sighing loudly as he embraces the softness he won’t feel again for another few hours. 

Zuko reaches up to place his phone on the nightstand and stretches his arms above his head as he yawns. He glances over and spots his camera, perched on his dresser and nestled amongst the lotion and deodorant. His head falls back down and he makes a mental note to charge the battery before later tonight. Having his camera die on him mid-stream probably wouldn’t look great to his clientele.

* * *

“Don’t they have anything on the menu that’s not some weird amalgam of vegetables posing as meat?” Sokka groans, slinking down in the booth. “I just want some chicken tenders, not lentils and quinoa mashed together into the  _ shape _ of chicken tenders.” 

The restaurant’s menu has Sokka stressed. He’d thought that he might find at least one entree from this restaurant somewhat appealing, but scanning it over and over just reminds him how much he wished they’d just gone to the pizza joint five minutes from the theater like he’d suggested in the first place. 

“Stop being a baby, Sokka.” Katara chides him, forcefully pulling him back up by the arm. “You were outvoted and Aang says this place has really good reviews. You’re a  _ chef _ for God’s sakes. You’re telling me you can’t handle one vegan dish?”

“I don’t know what half of these things even are.” He taps the menu. “For example, the ‘Incredible Burger’. What even is that?”

“It’s a vegan burger.” Aang cuts in, sipping at his ice water. “I’ve heard it’s amazing. It’s why I wanted to come here in the first place.” 

“Okay, but what  _ is  _ it though? Like, what makes it so incredible?” Sokka asks again, pointing to the accompanying picture beside the entree. “What kind of voodoo magic are they doing behind the counter to make this actually look like meat?” 

Toph snickers. “I feel like Google could tell you that.” 

“I’m not  _ asking _ Google, I’m asking you guys!”

“We don’t know, Sokka.” Katara replies. “What does it even matter if you’re not going to order it anyway?” 

He scoffs, looking back down at the menu.“Who said I’m not gonna order it? I’m not a punk, I can handle a little mystery meat— _ it’s seventeen dollars?!”  _

“I don’t know why you’re so shocked.” Toph says. “We’re in New York, everything is expensive here.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m still not paying nearly twenty bucks for a burger. There are, like, twelve places in a two mile radius of the tea shop where I could get a good one for a  _ third _ of that price—“ 

“Okay! We get it! You don’t want to try any vegan meat.” Aang finally snaps, forcefully turning Sokka’s menu over. “Look! There’s a bunch of ‘normal’ sides you can get. Why don’t you just order some garlic fries and chill out?” 

Sokka blinks a few times, mildly taken aback by Aang’s outburst. 

“Maybe I will,” he responds. “Completely of my own volition and not because that actually sounds kind of delicious.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll share some garlic fries with you, Ponytail.” Toph places a hand on his shoulder, patting ever so gently. “I’ll even split the cost so it doesn’t hurt your empty little pockets.” 

Aang and Katara chuckle at that. Sokka frowns and folds his arms across his chest. “You guys suck.”

He isn’t  _ exactly  _ broke. His job at the packing warehouse, despite how much he hates it, pays fairly well. Enough for him to be mildly comfortable. Of course, living with a roommate and having discounted rent because Iroh, the owner of the building, liked him so much, helps too. It at least allows him to save a bit each paycheck. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. 

“Do you guys think we should get something for Zuko?” Aang asks, glancing over the menu’s dessert section. “He texted me saying he really wished he could come along tonight. I kinda wanna make it up to him.” 

“Well sure he would,” Sokka replies. “I bet he’d love a non-dairy dessert considering he threatened me over his almond milk this morning.” 

A pause falls across the table.

“You drank it without asking first, didn’t you?” Katara questions. 

“Yes,  _ but _ I believe firmly in the rule that if it’s in the fridge and not labeled, it’s fair game.” 

“I’d beat your ass too.” Toph scoffs. “You sound like a really shitty roommate.” 

“Excuse me! I am a  _ delight  _ to live with.” 

“Um,  _ incorrect _ .” 

“Katara!” Sokka whines. “Why is everyone being so mean to me today?!”

“You’re not exactly making it difficult.” Toph says. 

He pouts as his eyes dart between them. “I think I’m kinda glad Zuko’s not here. He’d just dogpile on me with the rest of you.” 

“What’s he doing tonight anyway?” Aang asks, glancing at his phone. “He didn’t say when we were texting.” 

Sokka reaches over to take a sip of his cola, shrugging nonchalantly. “I dunno. He was pretty vague about it.” He says. “I think he has a secret boyfriend or something. It would explain why he’s so reluctant to give up any details.” 

“Why would he keep it a secret?” Toph asks, turning her head towards him. “It’s not like he has any reason to be embarrassed about seeing someone new.” 

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffs. “We didn’t know Zuko was seeing Jet until like, two months after they started dating. He’s  _ insanely _ private about his romantic life.”

Toph shrugs. “ _ I _ knew. Teo told me Jet used to come into the Jasmine Dragon every day just to stare at him from across the dining room. It was pretty weird in retrospect.” 

“You only knew because Zuko didn’t have to tell you.” Aang admits. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m completely sold on the theory, but it would make a lot of sense. I thought Zuko and I were pretty close, but he still didn’t tell me about Jet until I asked.” 

“So we’re in consensus,” Sokka says triumphantly. “Zuko’s got a new squeeze and we’re probably not gonna hear about it until like, three months from now. Glad we can all agree on it.” 

Katara glances down at the table, fiddling with the folded napkins as her face fixes with concern. “There are reasons why Zuko was private about Jet,” she says. “His private life really isn’t our business.” 

Sokka shrugs again. “Yeah, well. Either way, we’ll find out what’s really going on eventually.” he flips through the menu again. “We should get him a slice of double chocolate fudge cake; he’d like that. He hides chocolate in the back of the pantry like a pack rat and thinks that I don’t know about it.” 

“Aww, that’s cute. He’s got a secret sweet tooth.” Toph snickers. 

“One among many secrets.” Sokka says, glancing out into the restaurant. “Where’s our waitress? We should hurry up and order so we can make the movie on time.” 

“We’ve got a ten-minute buffer with previews.” Katara tells him, scanning the dining room. “She’s coming our way now, we’ll be fine.” 

“Sure, but if we miss the opening scene, I’m blaming it on Aang and his need for this fancy, overpriced burger.”

Aang chides him as the waitress finally approaches their table, quickly taking down their orders and collecting their menus. A few more minutes of aimless conversation ensues before everyone’s attention gradually drifts away from one another. Sokka picks up his phone and scrolls through his messages until he finds Zuko’s name, quickly typing out a text to him before placing it back down. 

_ “Have fun with your lucky bachelor tonight. <3”  _

He sees his screen light up in an instant, flashing with a single word reply. 

_ “Shut up.”  _


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you think? Is it crooked?” Zuko fidgets with the red and gold tapestry on his bedroom wall a few more times before turning to look at his propped up phone. “I feel like it’s crooked.” 

Mai’s lying on her bed, sipping at a mug of steaming black coffee and leaning onto her elbow. Her eyes dart around the screen as she shrugs, her expression nonchalant. “Crooked or not, I think it looks tacky.” 

Zuko groans and steps down off of his mattress, walking backward to get a better look at it. It wasn’t tacky at all in his opinion. He’d spent at least an hour searching online for something he could use to make his bare white walls look a little less plain. He was a bit picky about what went into his personal space; he liked  _ cohesiveness.  _ His bed set was a soft crimson and muted grey, his curtains were a dark maroon that sent the room into near blackness when closed; the brightest objects in his room were a few down, ochre-colored throw pillows that he’d never even made up his mind whether he liked or not. 

Zuko looks back over. “I feel like I need something in the background to make everything look less...bleak.” 

“Zuko, people don’t watch your streams to judge your interior design skills, they watch them so they can ogle at your body and get off.” 

“You’re probably right.” He sighs irritably. “A few people pointed out how empty my room looked and I guess I overthought it.” 

“Believe me, even if they actually do give a shit about what’s in the background of your videos, it’s not their  _ main  _ concern.” She tells him, taking another sip. “Don’t stress about it.” 

He knows Mai’s right. She’s  _ always  _ right. He had a tendency to stress out about little things when it comes to being a cam boy, like whether or not music in the background would be a good idea, or if going live at eight-thirty instead of eight would cause a dip in his views. They were all things that Mai swore up and down didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. 

Zuko tells himself constantly that he needs to trust Mai’s judgment more. She  _ was even  _ the one who planted the idea of doing this in his head in the first place. Mai had been a cam girl for a while apparently, longer than Zuko had imagined. He’d only found out after moving away from California; Zuko had mentioned his money troubles in regards to his job at the Jasmine Dragon not paying enough. Sure, he was fine given that Iroh owned the building and in turn gave him discounted rent, but he was trying to think about the future. There was no way in  _ hell  _ he’d be able to afford actual New York rent on his current income. 

Not to mention school. 

He wasn’t currently enrolled. He hadn’t been for nearly four years. The moment he’d cut ties with his father, everything crumbled underneath him, including the cushy, six-figure monthly income his father made that even allowed him to go to a prestigious arts university in the first place. 

He’d had the rug ripped out from underneath him. Zuko had gone from being immersed in a performing arts program that heloved to flying across the country with his uncle in less than a few months, directionless and with no idea what to do now. He’d been dancing since he was young; it was never really much of a choice for him either way. His mother had been a professional dancer, and as long as he could remember it’d always been a part of his life. Zuko had years of memories of being driven to a modern brick and mortar studio with big glass windows and an incredible view of the city, all while Azula kicked his leg and worked his nerves in the backseat. He remembered struggling to learn the nuances of classical dance and how his mother would comfort him when he got frustrated. All of that was gone in an instant, and needless to say, it took a toll on him.

Zuko convinced himself that losing out on college was a sign that maybe he should let go of it all. It wasn’t as if becoming a professional dancer was  _ easy.  _ His mother was a prodigy and more talented than he could ever hope to be. He spent nights in bed letting his brain persuade him that this was how things were supposed to go, that he was supposed to figure out something else in New York and pick something more practical to aspire to. 

Despite Zuko having little drive, Iroh constantly reminded him that he shouldn’t stop doing things that make him happy. He knew his uncle could tell he wasn’t himself. Zuko didn’t realize how much of an impact letting go of this portion of his life was until things had gone much further than they should have.

He’d only recently made the decision to try and go back to school. It was going to be hard, and saving for it was going to be  _ painfully _ expensive, but he’d finally realized it was worth it.

At least, to him it was. 

So when Mai gave him a rough ballpark of how much he could possibly make doing this “cam boy stuff” if he put in the work, it seemed negligent to not even consider it as an option. 

“Is that weird guy still popping in and out of your chat?” Mai asks, setting down her coffee. “I’ve had plenty of creeps in mine, but never any that were that persistent.” 

Zuko squints and stares at the wall, searching his brain for a proper response. “He is. I keep blocking him but he keeps creating new guest accounts and it’s infuriating.” He groans. “Should I just limit my streams to verified accounts only? I can’t think of another way to get around this.” 

Mai shrugs. “You could, but you’d be missing out on a lot of clientele. A lot of people use guest accounts. Not everyone wants their personal info attached to a camming website, y’know?” 

Zuko groans again and falls back onto his bed, reaching up to wrench his hands in his hair. “I  _ know,  _ but--” He hesitates. “What if it’s him?” 

Mai’s attention snaps back to the screen. “Zuko, you’re being paranoid.” 

“How am I being paranoid?” He says, sitting up onto his forearms. “Jet’s literally been stalking me on and off for a year. This would be one of the least surprising ways he would try and get to me.” 

“You weren’t camming when you dated Jet, he had no idea that you were even  _ thinking  _ about it. So how would he even know that you’re doing it now?” 

“I don’t  _ know _ but I just have this feeling--” 

“Zuko, look at me.” 

He pauses, turning his head to look over at his phone. 

“Jet is not watching your streams. He literally has no way of knowing that you do this.” She tells him. “The odds of someone you know personally randomly finding out that you get naked on camera for money are low if you’re  _ careful  _ about it, and you are. I’ve been doing this long enough to tell you that confidently.”

Zuko stands there for a second, taking in a few deep breaths before formulating a response. “I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, I’m just—it’s just—“

“Anxious.” Mai finishes. “I know, but letting it stay at the forefront of your mind when you’re about to go live in an hour isn’t gonna help you in the long run.” 

“You’re right, I need to focus.” 

She nods, switching from her stomach to sitting on her knees. “Just go make yourself a cup of white tea and grab something from your secret chocolate stash. You’ll be fine.” 

Zuko blinks, blankly staring at his phone. “You knew about that?” 

“You weren’t exactly covert about it.” She says, smirking. “I remember finding a mountain of wrappers under your pillow back when we were still dating. If you want something to be a secret, Zuko, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that.” 

He feels the faint heat of embarrassment spread across his face and he clears his throat, making a mental note to clean out the sea of chocolate wrappers currently hiding in his desk drawer. 

“I’ll try and calm down before later.” Zuko says, sitting on his bed. “I have a regular that pops in from time to time for a private show. I’m kind of hoping that he drops by tonight. I could use the extra money.” 

“Oh wow, fancy.” Mai replies, seemingly impressed. “Is he one of those guys with a weird fetish? I always get people like that in private shows.” 

“...He is. He likes it when I—“ Zuko swallows his words, now reluctant to say more. “Never mind.” 

“When you  _ what?”  _

“I said never mind!” 

“Are you really not going to tell me?” 

Zuko gets up and walks over to his desk, grabbing his phone from against the wall. ”No, I’m not.” 

“Zuko you’re such a baby—“ 

“Gotta go get ready for later. Bye.” 

The call ends with a chime and Zuko tosses his phone onto his bed, already knowing that he’s probably going to get a snarky follow-up text from Mai later. He sighs and turns around to look at the tapestry again, his eyes moving around its corners, trying to decide whether he likes it or not. 

_ ‘It looks fine. I’m leaving it up.’  _ He squints.  _ ‘But it’s still crooked. Dammit.’  _

* * *

When Sokka gets in for the night, he’s far more tired and hungry than he expected to be by then. 

It wasn’t as if half a take out container of garlic fries and a box of sour candy from the movie theater were in anyway filling. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised to be ravenous after finishing his snack five minutes into the movie and sitting in the dark for two hours 

It was pretty damn good in Sokka’s opinion, but  _ dear god _ was it long. He’s almost glad Zuko didn’t decide to come along tonight. Sitting through the entirety of every jumpscare and tense moment probably would’ve left him anxious and fidgety for the rest of the night. 

It’s a little after nine and he’s exhausted. All he really wants to do is peel off his sweatshirt and crawl into bed, but he knows that the sheer discomfort of a growling, empty stomach will keep him up until he actually gives his body what it needs. 

Sokka drags himself into the kitchen, flicking on the amber light above the stove as he begins searching through the cabinets for something quick and easy to eat. He eventually makes his way to the fridge and is grateful to see there’s a pack of bacon stuffed in the meat drawer. 

_ ‘Bacon and eggs?’ _ He thinks, staring intensely between the meat and carton of eggs on the next shelf.  _ ‘Nah, had an omelet for breakfast. Carbonara?’  _ He shakes his head. Boiling pasta right now somehow felt like too much of a hassle. _ ‘Sandwich? Yeah, a sandwich--something simple ‘n easy. BLT?’ _

The more he thinks about it, the more sold on the idea he is. His mind starts overdressing it and considering other things to throw in, like a few caramelized onions and maybe some smoked gouda to tie everything together. It strays farther and farther from quick and easy to something that’ll most likely take him half an hour to make to his liking. 

Sokka’s already convinced himself before he can double back. He’s grabbing romaine and heirloom tomatoes out of the fridge and scouring the kitchen for the loaf of sourdough bread he knows he bought a few days ago. He remembers tossing it on top of the fridge after making a turkey sandwich last night, but after a few tip-toed glances above the freezer, he’s starting to think maybe he’s losing his mind. 

Sokka leans onto the counter and thinks hard for a second, trying to search the recess of his memory to recall where in the  _ hell  _ he put this damn bread. He then realizes he lives with  _ Zuko,  _ a notorious clutter cleaner. It irritated Sokka to no end; he was incredibly particular about where things were in the kitchen for easy access in case something spontaneous popped into his mind. Occasionally he’d leave something out on the counter only to find it tucked away in some random part of the pantry, somewhere Sokka can’t even make sense of why Zuko decided to put it there. 

He figures that rather than wasting time shoving things around in the pantry, he’ll save himself the headache and just go  _ ask _ Zuko instead where he hid the bread this time. Sokka slinks down out of the kitchen and down the dimly lit hall, sighing as he lifts a fist to knock on his closed door. 

“Hey Zuko?” He asks, leaning against the wall. “You got a sec?” 

Sokka raises an eyebrow when he hears a muffled “fuck” through the door, followed by the sound of very quick footsteps across the hardwood almost as if Zuko was scrambling for some reason. He takes a few steps back and watches as the door opens a few seconds later, dim red light spilling out into the hall as Zuko sticks his head out.

“What is it?” 

The shortness in Zuko’s tone takes Sokka aback and his expression isn’t exactly chipper either. His inky black hair is down and tousled over his shoulders and a maroon robe is tied tight around his waist, a robe that Sokka’s not even sure he knew Zuko owned. Amber eyes stare back at him, narrowed and impatient as he waits for an answer to his question. 

“Uh, are you okay? You look a little tense--” 

“I’m fine.” Zuko cuts him off, his tone growing more agitated. “Now could you tell me what it is you need? I’m in the middle of something.” 

Sokka blinks, still thrown. “I just wanted to know if you knew where the sourdough was. I can’t find it anywhere you’re the one who likes to hide stuff around the kitchen for some unknown reason.” 

“Look in the freezer.” Zuko replies quickly. “Is that it?” 

“...Yeah, it is, but--” 

“Great. goodbye.” 

The door nearly slams shut in Sokka’s face until he quickly wedges a foot in the door, cursing under his breath at the pain as Zuko stares back at him, fire brimming in his eyes. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Sokka asks harshly. “Why are you being so bitchy for no reason? I just asked you where something was, chill out.” 

Zuko glowers at him. “I’m being ‘bitchy’ because I already told you that I was doing something, and yet you’re still here bothering me.” 

“ _ ‘Bothering you’?”  _ He asks incredulously. “This wouldn’t even be an issue if you just put shit back where you found it!” 

“Why the hell does it matter?! Just take more than ten seconds to look around--” Zuko groans, cutting himself off as he rubs his temple. “I don’t have time for this. If you need something else tonight just text me. Don’t knock on my door again.” 

“But--” 

_ “Goodbye.”  _

With that, his foot is kicked out from between the door and it slams shut, the faint sound of the knob being locked shortly following after. Sokka stands there for a moment, bewildered at the exchange he’d just had. 

“You didn’t have to lock the door, you know! I can take a hint!” 

He doesn’t get a response and decides that Zuko must just be in one of his moods. He never exactly knew what triggered his roommate to get so upset out of nowhere, but in all honesty he should’ve been used to it by now. It definitely wasn’t the first time it happened and most likely wouldn’t be the last, so Sokka just rolls his eyes and walks back down the hall, muttering to himself that Zuko needs to pull out whatever stick is wedged up his ass.

* * *

  
When he hears the sound of footsteps traveling away from his room, Zuko lets out a loud sigh of relief. Out of all the times Sokka had to come banging on his door asking about something trivial, he  _ had  _ to do it while he was in the middle of a stream. 

Zuko looks back over at his laptop; he’d slammed it shut the moment he’d heard Sokka’s voice and stumbled around trying to find something to cover his naked body. He’s thankful he’d remembered which pile of clothes he’d tossed his robe in and threw it on as quickly as he could, anxious to get Sokka as far away from his bedroom as possible. 

For precautionary measures, Zuko shirks off his robe and tucks it underneath the slit of his door, just to muffle any sound that might escape out into the hall. The air of his room is cold against his bare skin as he walks back over to his bed, sitting on the edge as he logs back online. 

It takes a few minutes for people to file back into his chatroom. It isn’t as many as before which irks him deeply, but it’s still a sizable audience. Ping after ping of messages pop into the chat, many asking what happened and why the stream randomly cut off. Zuko sits back on his bed and pulls his legs up onto it, reaching for the small bottle of lube resting on his pillow. 

“I don’t live alone, my roommate wanted something.” He says. “He’s gone now, so it’s fine. Sorry about that.” 

A few people assure him not to worry and that they’re just glad he’s back online. A few others start facilitating a slightly invasive conversation about what his roommate looks like and Zuko just looks away from the screen, choosing not to answer any of the questions they’re asking. He feels around the bed for the toy he’d tossed earlier and squirts a glob of lube into his palm, smoothing it over the silicone as he flicks the switch hidden on the underside. He scoots back on the bed and turns his vision towards his larger monitor; it’s zoomed in significantly and far easier to read than trying to squint at his laptop screen from five feet away. His breath hitches as he picks up where he left off, soft moans slowly leaving his mouth as his body relaxes. 

The chime of a few tips coming in start ringing through his room, followed shortly by the rapid sound of several message alerts pouring in at once. Zuko pauses, feeling his heartbeat pick up as he focuses his eyes on the screen. He recognizes the sound and he immediately sits up, quickly sliding to the edge of the bed to click furiously at his computer. The chatbox is flooding with messages from a guest, all short and broken as if they’re being typed and sent at lightning speed.

_ Guest0023858908: “You’re so pretty. So fucking hot.” _

_ Guest0023858908: “Want you so bad.”  _

_ Guest0023858908: “Spread your legs wider.”  _

_ Guest0023858908: “I would pin you down, make you scream.”  _

Zuko wishes his fingers could move faster. He was praying to God that he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit tonight on top of everything else. He’d usually have to kick this person out towards the beginning of his streams, not halfway through. 

_ Guest0023858908: “Don’t stop, wanna see you come all over yourself.”  _

_ Guest0023858908: “Lay back down.”  _

His computer’s being slow and he groans under his breath as he viciously right clicks on the guest’s username. It feels as if it takes ages, but the menu finally pops up. Zuko furiously clicks the “ban user” option and waits for the server to catch up, but not before the guest sends one last message that shakes Zuko to his core. 

_ Guest0023858908: “Miss you so much.”  _

He feels his blood run cold. His eyes go wide and he pulls his hands away from the keyboard, horrified as he slams his laptop shut. Zuko staggers back on the bed and stares back at it, his heart racing and body nearly shaking. He tries to repeat what Mai said to him earlier over and over in his mind, but it’s drowned out by the sheer volume of his pulse thumping in his ears. 

_ ‘Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.’  _ He thinks, wrenching hands in his hair.  _ ‘Fuck, goddammit. God fucking dammit.’  _

Zuko falls back on his bed, letting his frustration out in a single, loud yell, wondering why the fuck Mai couldn’t have just been right this time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“Well good morning, sunshine.” 

Zuko cracks open one eye when he hears Sokka’s voice echo into the living room, glancing over in his direction. “Morning.”

He walks in, the soles of his sneakers squeaking across the wooden floorboards. Zuko cringes and tries to stay relaxed as he sits cross-legged on the rug, steadily breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Sokka stops when he’s standing just a foot away from him, staring directly down as if he’s watching an ant on the sidewalk. 

“Seems like you’re in a better mood.” He says, rocking on his heels. “Are you done having your bi-weekly temper tantrum for now? Or should I come back in a couple of hours?” 

Zuko sighs and opens his eyes, tilting his head up to look at him. “Sorry about last night. I was already on edge because of something else. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you though, that wasn’t fair.” 

Sokka waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I was mad for like, ten minutes and then I had a delicious BLT to take my mind off of it.” He gives him a thumbs up. “You’re all good.” 

“Thanks.” Zuko replies, smiling softly. “Are you going somewhere? It seems pretty early for you to be heading out.” 

Sokka nods. “I don’t go into work until twelve. I thought I’d try and do a grocery run before then.” He says. “I know I’m not gonna feel like it after I get off and I have the same shift tomorrow, so.” 

Zuko nods. “Makes sense.” 

“I actually came in to ask if you wanted to come along? If you’re done with your morning meditation stuff or whatever.” Sokka says. “I know you need groceries too. I’ve seen you eating chips and salsa for dinner like, twice this week.” 

He narrows his eyes. “I’m not a heavy eater.” 

“Heavy eater or not, chips and salsa ain’t a meal my guy.” Sokka squats next to him, wrapping his hands around Zuko’s bicep and tugging him gently. “Come  _ on.  _ I feel like you need to get out of this building a little. Besides, we haven’t had our trademark ‘Zuko and Sokka’ bonding time in forever.  _ Come onnn.”  _

“‘Bonding time’? We live together.” 

“That doesn’t count!”

“Sokka, I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet—“ 

“I’ll buy you something on the way!  _ Zukoooo _ !” Sokka’s being dramatic now. He throws himself over Zuko’s shoulders, fake sniffling into the crook of his neck. “I just—feel l-like I never s-see you anymore—“ 

“Are the theatrics really necessary?” 

Sokka clutches him tighter, the sobs rising in volume. “Of course they are! How can I be expected to be calm when my own  _ husband _ won’t even spend time with me, his frail, withering flame—“

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Zuko finally shakes Sokka off, watching as he falls to the hardwood like a rag doll. The back of his hand presses against his forehead and he wails like a dying wolf, his other hand outstretched in Zuko’s direction. 

“Why do you treat me this way?” He croaks. “I give you the best thirty years of my life and  _ this _ is the thanks I get?” 

Zuko tries his best to hold it together, however, a grin that pulls at the corner of his mouth slowly cracks his facade. He leans on his elbow, cackling like a hyena as he shakes his head. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, you know that?” 

Sokka smirks. “So I’ve been told.” 

Zuko climbs to his feet, cracking a few joints as he stretches. “Where were you thinking of going? Reggie’s?” 

Sokka shakes his head. “Nah, Yu Dao market. I know it’s kind of far, but I’m recipe testing this week and I need a few things that are kinda hard to get around here.” 

“That’s fine. I like Yu Dao.” He replies. “Uncle likes their bulk lychee tea. I can get him some while we’re there, so it’ll be a win-win.” 

Sokka feigns a delighted gasp, his hand over his chest. “My husband is so  _ thoughtful—“  _

“ _ Enough.”  _ Zuko tells him. “I’ll go get dressed. Give me like twenty minutes.” 

“So forty minutes? Gotcha.” 

Sokka blows a kiss at him as Zuko walks out of the living room, barely catching a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. He takes a minute to glance around the room, eyeing the red yoga mat and the now lukewarm cup of tea sat beside it. Sokka’s not exactly sure when Zuko decided to start meditating during his free mornings, but he can only assume that it’s something Iroh encouraged him to do. He doesn’t at all see it as a bad thing, in fact, knowing Zuko’s temper he could probably benefit from gathering himself on a regular basis. 

Sokka scoots closer to the mat and takes a seat, crossing his legs as he places his hands on his knees. His eyes close and he inhales deeply, trying to see if all this “meditation” mumbo jumbo was everything people made it out to be. 

“Hey, do you think we can be back before ten--” Zuko stops in the doorway as he sees Sokka’s seated form. “What are you doing?” 

“I dunno, trying to open my third eye, astral project, reach enlightenment,  _ something _ ?” He cracks a glance at the mug beside him. “Is it in the tea? Is that where the secret to nirvana is?” 

Sokka reaches for the cup and Zuko stops him dead, tossing a slipper in his direction. “Did we not just have a conversation about you drinking my stuff without asking?” 

He ducks out of the way of the shoe and blows a raspberry back at him, folding his arms like a fussy five-year-old. “You’re no fun, you know that?” 

“So I’ve been told.” Zuko says, turning away. “Leave my tea alone.”

Sokka slumps over as Zuko walks down the hall to resume what he'd been doing. He can smell the tea’s aroma from here and he’s mildly glad that Zuko’s declared it off limits. Oolong tea gave him  _ severe  _ indigestion, and sitting through a thirty minute train ride with a gurgling stomach sounded like an absolute nightmare. 

* * *

  
The trip to Harlem is as smooth as it can be. A customary bible thumper clad in a flowy, patchwork skirt and worn-out sandals passes through the train car and out of it at the next stop, prompting Zuko to breathe a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been caught in the throws of some persistent train hopper who decided  _ he,  _ more than anyone, needed to hear the good word. 

He stays by Sokka's side as they shuffle out of the station, climbing a set of long, cement stairs before emerging into daylight. Thankfully, Yu Dao Market is only a few blocks from their stop, and Zuko is smacked with the overwhelming scent of seafood as they walk through the front entrance. 

Truth be told, Zuko isn’t the most self-sufficient person. Sure, he knows how to cook, but not nearly as well as Sokka does. The extent of his knowledge about preparing  _ actual  _ meals pretty much starts and stops at knowing that onions and garlic never hurt any savory dish. There’d been more than one occasion where Sokka had inserted himself into Zuko’s cooking attempts; he’d chastise him for considering a can of plain tomato soup a meal, rummage through the fridge for miscellaneous vegetables and steadily push Zuko aside to add spice after spice to the simmering pot. Despite Sokka drawing out Zuko’s hunger far longer than necessary, it was almost always worth it. Sokka had a passion for cooking, and Zuko is secretly glad that he’s got a roommate so ready to effortlessly dress up his meals.

“Alright,” Sokka picks up a grocery basket and turns to Zuko. “I’m probably gonna be spending most of my time in this general vicinity,” he says, broadly gesturing to the produce section. “So if you need me for whatever reason, I’ll be sizing up some daikon radishes.” 

Zuko lowers his brow. “Sokka, I’m twenty-three, not five. I think I can manage on my own in a grocery store without supervision.” 

Sokka purses his lips. “Sure, but if we go to check out and all I see in your basket is ramen and a box of Cheerios, I’m going full Katara and dragging you back through the store to get  _ actual  _ food.” 

“Okay  _ Mom _ , you’ve made your point.” Zuko rolls his eyes and picks up a basket as well. “I’ll be sure to grab something nutritious or whatever.” 

“You better!” Sokka tells him, pointing two fingers at his eyes and then at Zuko’s. “I’ll check!” 

He disappears into the produce section and Zuko glances away, taking in the rows and rows of aisles trying to decide where to start. In hindsight, he probably should’ve taken a cursory glance in the fridge to see what exactly he needs for the next week. There was never much rhyme or reason to what he bought for groceries. Sokka often came home with seemingly endless bags of miscellaneous items, which left Zuko confusedー how could anyone possibly consume that much over seven days? He eventually remembers it’s  _ Sokka _ he’s talking about, a twenty-two-year-old with a bottomless pit where his stomach should be.

He makes his way through the aisles, tossing random and generic items into his basket. A box of cereal here, a couple packs of ramen there, maybe a bag of white rice in the event he decides to cook something simple. Zuko remembers one thing: he needs tea for his uncle. He decides to swing by the bulk section and grab it now. His short term memory isn’t always the best and there’s a good chance that if he doesn’t pick up the tea while he’s thinking about it, he’ll walk straight out of the store without giving it a second thought.

He rounds the corner into the bulk department and skims, looking closely for the word “lychee” in big black letters. His eyes make their way to the end of the aisle where he sees a tall, slender figure, clad in flannel and a tightly tied black apron. He’s dumping a heavy bag of brown rice into one of the empty bins and clearly only paying attention to the music in his ears. Zuko immediately feels numb. His mind starts screaming with questions he so desperately needs the answers to. 

_ ‘Why is he here?’  _

_ ‘When did Jet start working here?  _ **_Why_ ** _ did he start working here?’  _

_ ‘Why now? Why now why now why--”  _

He’s so deep in thought that he doesn’t notice that Jet’s looking back at him; staring, to be exact. When Zuko realizes he feels his breath wrench in his lungs, his chest flushing with an all too familiar pang of anxiety. He has no idea what to do and his legs refuse to listen to him. His brain is yelling at him to just  _ turn around  _ and walk away but he feels petrified in place, frozen by a tidal wave of emotions that he can’t process quick enough. 

It must be some unknown force of the universe that snaps him out of it, because the moment Jet takes one step in his direction, Zuko does a complete one-eighty. He grips tightly onto the basket in his hand and darts around the end of the aisle, speed walking away so quickly he nearly trips over his own feet.    
  


“Wait!” 

Zuko ignores him, willing his legs to move faster so he doesn’t have to break out into a  _ full sprint  _ in the middle of a grocery store. He can hear a pair of quicker footsteps trailing behind him. He even considers dropping the basket entirely and making a beeline for the side entrance before he jolts at the feeling of a hand grabbing his shoulder from behind. 

Zuko stops and whips around, jerking away like he’s been burned.

“Zuko--” 

“That was really fucking bold of you.” 

There’s so much venom in his tone that it takes Jet by surprise. He stands there for a moment, blinking as he searches his mind for the proper response. 

“Zuko, please.” He finally says. “We can’t even talk civilly? Like adults?” 

“I don’t have any interest in striking up a conversation with you.” 

“Damn, that’s cold.” Jet shoves his hands in his apron. “Can I ask how you’re doing?” 

“No.” 

“I’m being serious.” He repeats. “How are you? It’s been a while.” 

Zuko closes his eyes in frustration, gritting his teeth as he rubs his temple. “You can’t be  _ this  _ dumb. Why would you think after everything that’s happened, we could still be all ‘buddy-buddy’ with one another?” 

“Zu, work with me. You know I still care about you--” 

“ _ Do not _ call me that!”

Jet’s mouth closes. The malice in Zuko’s voice is sharp, affirmative and laced with the faintest hint of pain. He looks back at him, silently observing and waiting for his next move. Zuko’s stance suggests he’s one step away from punching him square in the jaw, but Jet can tell it's a front. A complex fireworks show of emotions bursts behind Zuko’s eyes whenever they confront one another, and Jet knows he has to fight in order to keep all of its utter chaos under control.

“So it’s like that?” He asks, chuckling. “That’s rich.” 

“You’re delusional if you think I have any obligation to be cordial with you.” Zuko says, turning towards the end of the aisle. “I’m done with this. Goodbye.” 

It only takes two steps for Zuko to feel another hand grasp onto his shoulder, firmer and more aggressive this time. A rush of memories flood through his mind and he’s grabbing Jet’s arm faster than he can even register it. He grips it so hard that Jet cries out, spitting profanities as Zuko bends his arm back farther than it wants to go. 

“Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking wrist,” He says, squeezing harder. “Now leave me alone and go fuck off somewhere else before I decide to do it anyway.” 

He can see in Jet’s eyes that the last thing he wants to do is admit defeat, but the clear tension building in his clenched jaw lets him know he’s in more pain than he’s letting on. A few onlookers gather at the end of the aisle; one preteen blonde girl yanks on her friend’s sleeve and gestures with her head towards them, whispering something Zuko can’t make out. 

His eyes cut back to Jet and linger for a few seconds before finally letting go, catching a glimpse of the bright red marks left behind by his fingers. Jet stands there for a moment, holding his wrist and taking slow, measured breaths through his nose. The girls at the end of the aisle have been staring a few seconds too long for Zuko’s liking. He bends over to pick up his basket from the ground, shooting Jet a glare before finally walking in the opposite direction. 

He half expects to be tailed again, but realizes that Jet must’ve remembered that this is his  _ job,  _ and getting into a physical altercation with a customer in front of  _ other  _ customers probably wouldn’t be in his best interest. 

Zuko lets out a breath he doesn’t realize he’d been holding in. He power walks to the opposite side of the store and parks himself by the citrus display, taking a moment to try and fully calm down from the encounter he’s just had. The last Zuko remembers, Jet was working at some music shop in Brooklyn. But that was a year ago, and Jet did live in East Harlem anyway. The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense that he’d be working closer to home. 

Whatever the case was, it isn’t something Zuko wants to allow too much residence in his mind. He tries his best to push the slowly creeping memories out of reach, and instead focuses on finding Sokka. His eyes dart from one display to the next until he sees him across the department, holding a white radish up to the light to inspect it inch by inch. Zuko grips his basket and makes his way across the store, stopping a few feet away from where Sokka’s standing. 

“What are you even looking for?” 

He yelps in surprise and the radish tumbles out of his hand, falling to the ground with a light “thud”. He cuts a glare in Zuko’s direction as he bends over to pick it up.

“ _ Quality,  _ Zuko. I’m looking for  _ quality.”  _ Sokka tells him, tossing it into his basket. “You can’t just go grabbing the first produce you see. You gotta look around, you know? They keep the fresh stuff in the  _ back _ of the shelf.” 

“Uh-huh.” Zuko replies, eyeing the registers. “So are you done? I am.” 

Sokka looks down at Zuko’s side, scanning the contents of his basket. “I am, but are you sure you’ve got more than just depression snacks in there?” He asks. “Because if I come home to you eating chips and salsa for dinner for the  _ third  _ night in a row, I’m tying you to a chair and forcing you to learn how to cook a real meal--” 

Zuko groans loudly and looks around, stopping on a cling wrapped package of chopped stir fry vegetables. He snatches it from the shelf and drops them in his basket, turning to give Sokka a deeply irritated look. 

“There. I’ll add this to my ramen or whatever.” He says impatiently. “Can we go now? Please?” 

Sokka purses his lips and looks Zuko up and down before turning on his heels. “Sure. I’ll accept that.” 

Before he knows it, Zuko’s practically running over to the registers. Sokka pauses briefly, trying to figure out what prompted this sudden burst of energy until he catches something in his periphery. He turns his head to the side and spots a familiar figure leaning against the mushroom case, his eyes wide as he meets Sokka’s gaze. Jet stands there for a moment, looking carefully back into his eyes before ultimately walking away. He disappears back into the aisles and Sokka makes sense of Zuko’s behavior. He doesn’t know much about Zuko’s relationship with Jet, but it’s obvious they aren’t on good terms. He grips onto his basket and searches for the line that Zuko’s in, weaving his way through the other lines of patrons to join him behind a family of four.

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely feedback on the last chapter!! <3

It’s fairly late in September, but still abnormally warm in Brooklyn for this time of year. 

Zuko tries not to let the humidity in the air get to him as he listens to the music playing from the speaker a few feet away, his body matching the low, deep bass reverberating through the cedar patio floor. He catches a glance at Katara as he shifts onto one flat foot, his other leg arching through the air and guiding him into a controlled tumble to the ground. 

He remains there for a moment, waiting for the music to fade out as he takes in a few deep breaths and steadies his heart rate. Zuko turns to look in her direction as he sits back on his knees, chest still heaving. 

Katara, seated on the cement half-wall fencing on the rooftop, smiles brightly, clapping her hands as she hops down to her feet. 

“You choreographed this, right?” She asks, walking over and extending an arm to help Zuko up. 

He nods, wiping a few sweat droplets from his brow. “Yeah. It took me a while to figure out how to finish it all off after the chorus, but I think I did alright.”

“Definitely more than alright. You did an amazing job.” She tells him. “Honestly, your musicality is better than my modern dance professor’s is.” 

Zuko’s eyes widen. “Wow, that’s a pretty big claim.” 

“I mean, it’s true!” Katara insists. “Like, don’t get me wrong, she’s _amazing_ and clearly really educated in the professional dance field, but I don’t know. Sometimes she seems...distant, like she’s not really present in the music?” She says. “You’re really good at expressing emotion with your body. It’s clear you’re actually listening and _interpreting_ , and not everyone does that.”

Zuko tilts his head and smiles softly, running a hand through his now slightly damp hair. “Thanks. That means a lot to hear.” 

“Of course, you deserve it.” 

They both stroll back over towards the wall, looking down to watch the bustling street below. Despite the building having its flaws, Zuko’s glad Iroh decided to invest in it. He’d only recently discovered that the roof of the building was accessible through the vacant top floor apartment, which Iroh apparently didn’t keep locked. The first time he’d stepped out onto the patio and surveyed the space, he knew it’d be the best and most convenient place for him to rehearse. It took a few days of sweeping up dust and making the space more welcoming, but with the addition of a dingy maroon rug, a few creaky beach chairs, and some lanterns strung via wooden poles, he finally felt like he had a space to dance again. 

Opening his own tea shop had been a dream he’d heard his uncle fantasize over many times during his adolescence, and when Iroh approached him with the opportunity to move and work with him, he was relieved to say the least. 

Zuko really didn’t have many other options. It was either follow his uncle to New York or stay in California, clumsily trying to find a way to not be homeless and couch surfing between the few close friends he had. He’d only been nineteen at the time and desperately trying to find a way out of living with his father and sister. He’s thankful looking back on it; this had pretty much been a golden ticket to safety being served to him on a silver platter. 

Zuko’s gaze shifts off the street and over to Katara, watching as her eyes follow the cars below. 

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” 

She looks up. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Do you like your dance courses at school?” He asks. “I mean, I know you’re majoring in pre-med and it’s not really your focus, but do you feel like they’re worth it?” 

Katara furrows her brows. “How do you mean?” 

“When I made the decision to go back to school, I always had this voice in the back of my head that made me question whether or not this is really a good idea.” Zuko begins, looking back at the street. “I’m paying for a lot of this by myself, and Ulrich isn’t a cheap school. I just want to convince myself that this is without a doubt worth it before I pour pretty much all of my savings into it, you know?” 

Katara nods and places a hand on his back, gently rubbing. “I completely understand.” She says. “But I can’t tell you whether or not it’s a good decision, only you know the answer to that.” 

He groans. “That’s the problem.” 

“You’re passionate about this, right?” Zuko nods. “If you could, you’d wanna make a career out of dancing, correct?” He nods again, and Katara smiles. “Then in my opinion, I think you should pursue it. You’re amazingly talented and I can see how much joy doing this brings you. We need to hold onto those things in life that make us genuinely happy because you never know if they’ll always be there” 

“Yeah, believe me, I know.” He tells her, exhaling heavily. “So, what movie are you guys planning on seeing tonight? Aang told me that possession movie was pretty good.” 

“We’re actually not hanging out today.” Katara replies, prompting a surprised look in response. “Sokka said he picked up a shift at work so we decided to skip it this week.” 

“Damn. That’s a six-day workweek.” He says. “I’m kind of shocked he agreed to that. He’s always complaining about how much he hates it there.” 

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Katara tells him. “He said that he could use the overtime. He’s told me _several_ times how much Badgley is and I honestly can't really blame him for wanting to work as much as he can.” 

Her last sentence catches Zuko’s attention. “Badgley? Isn’t that a culinary school?” 

She nods. “Yeah, it’s in SoHo. He’s been saving money for it for a while now. Did he not mention it to you?” 

He shakes his head. “No, he didn’t.” 

“Hmm.” Katara shrugs. “I’m not sure why, but it’s what he’s always wanted to do. Even our Gran Gran knew that Sokka wasn’t going to like traditional college.” 

“He doesn’t really seem like the type to enjoy that kind of atmosphere.” 

“He isn’t. He hated the dorms, the food, the class structure, the workload—“ 

“So basically everything about it.” 

“Yeah, pretty much.” She chuckles. “I do think he’ll do great in culinary school. The way he does things is a bit unorthodox sometimes, but I feel like with the right teacher, he’ll come out of it in a really good place.” 

Zuko nods. “I agree.” 

Katara looks over at him as she pushes up off the ledge. “So, are you free tonight? There’s a Morrocan restaurant downtown that Suki’s been telling me to try.”

Zuko frowns at that, facing her with an apologetic expression. “I can’t, I’m sorry.” He says. “I have something to do later tonight.” 

The look Katara gives him makes him nervous. She stares at him for a second, blinking as if she’s assessing the truth of his statement in her head. 

“Oh, that’s okay then.” She replies. “Mind if I ask what? I’m just curious.” 

Zuko suddenly feels a lump in his throat. Oddly enough, no one had actually ever _asked_ what it was he did on Friday nights. Usually, they just accepted his vague excuse at face value and left it at that. Katara’s looking at him very patiently, however, almost as if she could wait all day for an answer to her question. 

“Um, well. I uh—“ he clears his throat. “I kind of picked up this online job a while back.” 

Her face lights up. “Oh wow, that’s awesome! Do you like it so far?” 

Zuko hesitates. “Um...yeah. It definitely has its ups and downs but, it’s good overall.” 

“That’s good to hear.” She says, gently punching his shoulder. “Don’t overwork yourself though. Two jobs and a college application are a lot to balance all at once.” 

“I know, but I think I’m managing my time pretty well.” 

Katara’s expression is warm as she looks towards the ladder leading back down to the vacant apartment. “Well, maybe dinner is off the table tonight, but maybe a quick tea-brunch date could work instead?” 

Zuko thinks for a second. It probably wouldn’t take long and she had done him a favor by critiquing his routine for him. 

“Sure. That works fine.” 

Katara hooks her arm in his as they start towards the edge of the roof. “Wonderful. I know about this really lovely shop in Brooklyn called the “Jasmine Dragon”, ever heard of it?” 

Zuko chuckles as he steps down onto the ladder. “It rings a bell. I think I heard this really handsome guy with a scar works the front counter.” 

They laugh together as they slip back in through the apartment window, closing it shut as the sun peaks directly overhead.

* * *

_“This cooking method in which food is placed on a plastic bag or jar and cooked in water for longer than normal cooking times at a precisely regulated temperature.”_

Sokka pushes at the French toast sizzling in front of him. “What is ‘sous vide’?” 

_“Michael?”_

_“What is ‘poaching’?”_

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He looks up and glances over at his laptop. The buzzer sounds and Sokka scoffs. 

_“No one else has an answer?”_

“Sous vide! It’s sous vide!” Sokka stresses to no one. “This is common cooking knowledge, come on.” 

A few seconds pass and the buzzer goes off again. _“The correct answer was ‘sous vide’.”_

“Thank you!” He says, finally satisfied. 

Sokka glances back at the pan, flipping the French toast before it starts to burn on the opposite side. He’s relieved when he sees it’s a perfect golden brown, the edges crisp with small bits of caramelized sugar. 

He doesn’t know why he’d chosen to have Jeopardy on as background noise that morning. The show didn’t make him feel particularly smart. This rare occasion of actually having a decent amount of knowledge on one of the categories was more frustrating than anything; none of the participants seemed to know anything about cooking. They knew plenty about thermodynamics and geology, but not what internal temperature to cook chicken to, apparently. 

Sokka reaches out to pause the video, stepping away to remove a plate from the cabinet above the sink. He turns off the stove and slides his breakfast onto it, graciously sprinkling powdered sugar on top before adding a drizzle of syrup. Did he have any reason in particular to plate his food so precisely despite serving it only to himself? No. Did he have to have a reason in his opinion? Also no. He deserves pretty food every once in a while. 

Sokka takes the dish in one hand and cradles his laptop in his free arm, walking over to the card table tucked in the corner of the kitchen. He takes a seat on one of the too tall bar stools and cuts at the toast, mindlessly scrolling through apps to find something less aggravating to watch. 

He’s blown through most of his ‘saved for later’ list. Sokka knows he’s unnecessarily picky on which movies he devotes his time too, especially on his days off. Half of what he watches are background noise at best. When it comes to anything other than cooking, his laser focus dissolves. Sitting down and devoting his full attention to a movie without fidgeting or doing anything else was a feat in and of itself. He even found himself sneaking glances at his phone during the gangs’ weekly movie dates, which would quickly earn him an earful from Katara about it being distracting for everyone around him. 

Sokka closes the tab he’s currently in and opens another one, typing “Netflix” into the search bar before clicking on the first suggestion that pops up. He hadn't used the site in a while. Aang had recommended him a whole slew of shows that were exclusively on Hulu, and given that Aang had a particularly good track record with his taste in content, Sokka graciously took his recommendation. 

He frowns when he’s brought to a login screen rather than the home page. He clicks on the username bar and hopes that Zuko’s login info is saved from the last time he’d used it, but the field comes up blank. 

_“No passwords stored for this site.”_

Of course there aren’t. Sokka knows how weird Zuko is about his account privacy. He should’ve known he’d probably be locked out if he stayed off Netflix for more than a couple of days. He assumes that Zuko periodically logs out just to keep randoms off his account. Sokka really doesn’t see much of a point to this, but it’s Zuko. Mild paranoia about small things was just another facet of his personality. 

Sokka pulls up the messages app on his computer and types a quick message to Zuko. 

_“Hey dude what’s your Netflix login again? I’m logged out.”_

He minimizes the window and returns to his breakfast, expecting Zuko to reply as quickly as he normally did. He’s probably the least annoying texter in their circle of friends. Aang was horrible to try and hold a text conversation with. He’d respond five hours later with a curt message and an excuse that he was busy doing something else. Sokka had seen him first hand receive a message only to glance at his phone and lock the screen. “Busy” his ass. 

Zuko doesn’t reply quickly, though. Sokka barely notices that twenty minutes have passed until he happens to glance at the time while scrolling through Twitter. He opens the message app again and stares at the text, deciding to give him a few more minutes. He knows Zuko’s on the roof showing Katara his routine or whatever. Maybe he just hadn’t had a second to check his phone. 

It isn’t until another ten minutes pass that Sokka grows annoyed, knowing he probably only has another hour of free time before he has to start getting ready for work. He checks his phone again looking just to see if maybe he’d missed the notification from Zuko’s reply. 

Nope, nothing. 

Sokka’s one minute away from irritably going up to the roof to ask Zuko himself, but a thought flashes in his mind. He remembers Zuko mentioning something about his passwords-- how he didn’t like to keep them saved on his computer (again, part of the paranoia). 

_‘He’s gotta have them written down somewhere.’_

Sokka swivels around in the bar stool, hopping onto the floor as he walks out into the hall. Zuko isn’t in the apartment, and Sokka will be careful. He’ll make sure to put everything back in its place and make it look like he was never in Zuko’s room to begin with. He stops in front of the door and slowly turns the knob, timidly poking his head in before stepping inside. 

The smell of Sandalwood is the first thing Sokka notices. It’s subtle and just barely wafting through the air; Zuko must’ve lit a candle in here not too long ago. Sokka returns his attention to the task at hand and starts over to the antique bookshelf in the corner of the room, picking random books and flipping through them. 

Zuko has a ridiculous amount of shit on his shelf, from historical fiction novels to photo books of Japan to a myriad of other things. After the fifteenth or so book, Sokka sets it down, looking over towards his desk. He might as well check there and get it out of the way, just to save himself the headache in case whatever he was looking for wasn’t hidden in one the million books Zuko has. 

Sokka pads over and looks along the desk, scanning visually before he has to move anything around. Zuko probably wouldn’t just leave sensitive information like that just sitting out in the open though, would he? 

Sokka narrows his eyes. Or maybe he _would_ , because nobody would think to check somewhere so obvious— 

He shakes his head. He’s overthinking this. Sokka leans on the desk and pulls open one of the bottom drawers, knocking around a few pens and paper clips to no avail. The second drawer is just as disappointing, he finds a pack of hair ties and a wooden brush but nothing of interest to _him._

Sokka squats and tugs open the third one, feeling around for anything other than the pack of vanilla incense he’d seen initially. He thinks for a moment and turns his palm upwards, running his fingertips along the top of the drawer until they brush against paper. 

_‘Bingo.’_

He gently begins peeling off sticky notes one by one, shuffling through the pile of them that begins to take shape. God, Zuko has _way_ too many email addresses. One for his old university, one that looked like he made it in the sixth grade, one that was probably his ‘formal’ email address, etc. 

Sokka finds logins for a bunch of websites he doesn’t really give a shit about. He tosses the notes he’s already looked through into the ground beside him and keeps fishing through, stopping when a particular note catches his eye. 

It’s different from the rest. Every other note has a similar format: website, email, password. There isn’t a website name written on this one, however, and the username is something Sokka hasn’t seen before. 

_“bluespirit77”_

_“Turtleduck!318*”_

It’s a completely unique password from the rest too. Sokka stares at it for a moment, his curiosity refusing to let him do anything other than try to guess what it’s for. It’s probably nothing—maybe he’d just forgotten to label it correctly. It still strikes him as a bit odd, but there’s nothing that comes to mind to answer the question of what it could possibly be for. 

Just as Sokka goes to drop the note in the “not it” pile beside his feet, the sound of the front door opening and closing sends him into a frenzied panic. He shoves the note into his pocket and gathers the remaining unsearched ones, tucking them in alongside before scrambling to put Zuko’s room back in order. 

He can hear Zuko walking around the living room and Sokka decides to take his chance; he’d be out of immediate sight and hopefully be able to get out of this unscathed. He cracks the door and peaks out just to be sure. Zuko isn’t in his line of sight. Sokka inelegantly squeezes out of the room, pulling it closed as quietly as he can before zipping down the hall. 

Zuko turns the corner just as Sokka comes to the end of the hallway. They collide and Sokka stumbles back a bit, grabbing the arm that Zuko shoves out to stop him from falling. 

“Whoa, easy there!” He grips on tight, pulling Sokka back to his feet. “Jesus, Sokka. Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine!” He replies a bit too quickly, earning a questionable glance from Zuko. “I just thought I left something in the oven for a second. But uh, nope. Just my imagination.” 

Zuko’s looking at him as he doesn’t quite believe him, but he also doesn’t quite care enough to debate about it. “Well, sorry for running into you. I didn’t see you coming.” 

“It was my bad, don’t sweat it.” Sokka’s eyes flick behind him. “So uh, watcha doin’?” 

“Katara and I were going to have some tea downstairs before she leaves.” Zuko replies. “I know you’re not really a tea person, but I figured I should ask if you’d wanna join.” 

Sokka waves a hand. “Nah, you’re right. I’m good. You guys go on without me.” 

In the back of his mind, he _kind of_ does want to go; there might still be some red bean bread left since it’s still early. He’s harboring stolen information in his pockets, however, and he should probably get it off his person before he leaves the apartment. 

Zuko nods and starts to turn away. “That’s cool. If you change your mind, we’ll be down there for a little bit.” 

“Of course, Zuko dearest.” Sokka leans on the wall and waves, an overcompensating grin spread across his face. “You two rascals have fun! Alright, buh-bye now!” 

The second the front door clicks closed, Sokka sighs dramatically. 

“Thank God.” 

Sokka looks towards his bedroom door and walks over, pushing it open with his foot. He takes a seat on his bed, shuffling through the rest of the sticky notes until he finally finds the Netflix login. Setting it aside, his eyes wander back to the crumpled note that had drawn his attention earlier. Sokka carefully picks it up, scanning over the mysterious login info one last time before he sets it down. 

He’d look it up later, he decides. He’s too curious not to at this point. Even though the chances of it just being some defunct account Zuko didn’t use anymore are fairly high, there’s still a chance that whatever it’s for could be amusing in the very least. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Sokka stumbles in the door from work, he’s almost certain his legs will give out from beneath him. 

They don’t, thankfully. He manages to make it to his room and peels off his work clothes as soon as the door closes behind him. His feet ache as he pulls off his boots; Sokka tosses each into the corner with a heavy “thud” and lets out a sigh of relief when he falls back into his bed, welcomed by the fading smell of floral laundry detergent.

Sokka almost wishes he’d reconsidered picking up this shift. It was Suki’s shift he was covering, and it should’ve occurred to him that closing shifts, especially without her there to help him, were an absolute nightmare. He might as well have been a manager with how much he had to pick up the slack of his coworkers. Due and Tho were only competent _some_ of the time; they were usually dicking around on the forklift and making Sokka’s life infinitely harder.

Sokka closes his eyes and spreads out like a starfish, stretching all of his limbs in one, exaggerated movement. His shoulders crack and he lets out a content sigh as he folds his arms back beneath his head. He’s thankful he doesn’t have to go in at seven tomorrow like he’d been originally scheduled. As a thank-you for covering her last minute, Suki’d pulled some strings and managed to get him a mid-shift instead. It may not have seemed like a lot, but clocking out of work and having there still be some daylight outside when he left made a world of a difference to his morale. 

Sokka shifts onto his side and feels around his night stand, looking for a charging cord before his phone can clock out on him for the night. He finds it tangled in a mess of other wires from his clock and lamp, and he reminds himself that he really needs to get one of those wire organizer things that he saw Katara had at her apartment. 

His hand brushes against something on the drawback. Sokka plugs the cord into the bottom of his phone and turns the screen towards the nightstand, squinting at the culprit. 

His face sinks. Right, it's the pile of sticky notes from earlier that he really should’ve made more of an effort to hide. He props himself up onto his elbow and pulls open the drawer as he begins sweeping it inside, stopping when a familiar crumpled note falls in on top. 

Sokka’s expression changes. His eyes light up with mischief and he pulls the piece of paper back out, unfolding it before closing the drawer shut again. 

_‘Just what are you keeping to yourself, Zuko beloved?’_

Sokka reads it over and picks up his phone, typing the term “bluespirit77” into Google. 

He grimaces. The results yield some obscure Italian jewelry company and a Costa Rican yoga resort, neither of which seem relevant to what he’s looking for. He backspaces and tries again, this time adding quotes around the username to try and narrow the results. It takes a bit of scrolling but he eventually finds something that looks as if it might hold some water. 

**_“Chat with bluespirit77 in a Live Adult Video Chat | CamNation”_ **

Sokka blinks. 

There was _no_ way.

He’s thoroughly convinced that it’s just a weird, rare coincidence, but he _has_ to click it. Just to be sure. Sokka doesn't know what he expects when the page loads, but it surely isn’t what he sees next. 

Sokka’s eyes go wide when the live window pops up. Time feels infinitely slow as he processes what he’s seeing. 

There’s a live adult stream taking place, just like the result had said. The chat feed in the corner of the screen chimes endlessly as tip after tip pours in, all from varying lewd usernames that rave about the performer in question. The window beside the chat is a video feed featuring a male streamer; his inky black hair draped around his shoulders and hanging ever so slightly in his golden eyes. 

His most identifying feature, however, was a familiar, reddish scar, covering the entirety of his left eye. 

Sokka feels his heart stop as the realization flashes through his mind.

_‘Zuko is a camboy’._

His brooding, moody, hot-headedー yet awkwardly cuteー roommate and friend of nearly four years gets naked on camera for money. 

It feels like Sokka’s in a dream. 

_“Oh, you guys reached the first tip goal. I didn’t even notice. Sorry about that.”_

Zuko’s voice catches him off guard and he jumps, thrown off by how quickly it brings him back to reality. Sokka stares at the screen, unsure if his brain can even compute what’s happening. His eyes dart over to the chat log-- he’d remembered seeing the word “goal” somewhere. He scans a bit and then sees it-- 

**_“Jerking off -- 500 tokens”_ **

The realization of what he’s about to see comes rushing into Sokka’s mind far too late. Zuko rises to his feet and his lower half fills the frame. His hands grasp at the waistband of his dark red boxer briefs and tug downward, sending Sokka’s internal temperature skyrocketing as he’s faced with a full frontal of Zuko’s naked, erect cock.

It isn’t until Zuko sits back down and takes himself in his hand that Sokka snaps out of his trance. The moment he hears a small groan leave Zuko’s mouth upon the first stroke, he yelps and closes the tab. 

He lies there in silence for what feels like at least a few minutes. Out of all the possibilities, out of _all_ of the things that Zuko could have _possibly_ been keeping a secret, the fact that he’s a camboy is not something Sokka considered. 

Sokka places his phone face down on the bed, pulling himself up to sit against the headboard. He props his elbows on his knees and laces his fingers together, resting his chin on his knuckles. It feels like his brain is having a system error trying to process everything. It isn’t as if camming is at all a bad thing---Sokka doesn’t give a shit about that. It’s the fact that it’s _Zuko._

He’d watched this man stutter at a waiter that had playfully complimented him on how handsome he was. Sokka had _seen_ first hand just how painfully awkward he could be around people he didn’t know and unfamiliar situations. It was absolutely _baffling_ that this same man somehow found his way into masturbating on camera to a live audience. 

His mind flashes back to the previous week around this time, when Zuko’d nearly bit his head off for knocking on his door just to ask for something. Sokka still hadn’t understood why he’d been so on edge that night, but _now_ it made sense. The random robe, how disheveled his hair was, how he just barely cracked the door open; he was streaming, and Sokka’s fist banging loudly against the door had probably interrupted that. 

He sits back on his bed. So _this_ was the thing that Zuko had to do every Friday. It wasn’t what Sokka was expecting, but it did make a lot of sense. Although he’d been hoping that his “secret boyfriend” theory had been true, this was so much further left that it trumped any possible satisfaction he’d have gotten from being right.

Sokka blinks for a moment when he remembers that stream was live. Which meant Zuko was in his room right now, a few steps down the hall from Sokka’s, fully naked on camera...

It’s way too much for him to mentally deal with right now. He doesn’t exactly know why he thinks having someone else around will help him process this, but Sokka’s far too uncomfortable to try and go to bed with everything on his mind. He stumbles off his bed and over to his laundry basket, ripping out a not-too-dingy pair of joggers and a slightly wrinkled t-shirt. He grabs his backpack and keys before he shoves his phone into his pocket, speeding over to the door to throw it open. 

Sokka’s lacing up his sneakers and out the door faster than he even thinks possible, going over the train route to Katara’s apartment in his head as he exits the apartment building. He plugs his headphones into his ears and turns on a trap song just below full volume, quietly hoping that it’ll drown out the thought that he’d _definitely_ felt some movement in his shorts the moment Zuko dropped his boxers. 


	5. Chapter 5

Sokka’s sure his knuckles are raw with how hard he’s knocking on Katara’s door.

After about two straight minutes of banging, she whips open the door, clad in an oversized orange t-shirt and shorts that just barely peek out from under the hem. The expression on Katara’s face is so deeply agitated that Sokka takes a step back when he sees it. She looks up at him with one hand on her hip and the other against the door frame, her foot tapping impatiently as she waits for him to speak. 

“... _ Heyyy _ , Katara--” 

“Are you out of your  _ mind _ ?” She cuts him off. “It’s almost midnight! Why the hell are you pounding on my door?!” 

Sokka nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I tried calling you--” 

“I was sleeping!”  __

“ _ This  _ early?” He asks in disbelief. “Come on Katara. I know you’re an early bird, but going to bed at eleven-thirty? Should I start calling you ‘Gran-Gran’ instead?”

“Eleven thirty is not early--” She cuts herself off, lowering her brows as she sighs irritably. “What do you want, Sokka?” 

He glances between her and the ceiling. “Um, can I come in? I think this is a conversation I wanna be sitting down for.” 

Katara narrows her eyes at him, her gaze distrusting. Sokka flashes his best  _ ‘please baby sis?’ _ smile and is relieved when she takes a step back, opening the door wide enough for him to walk through. 

“You’re lucky my roommate’s gone for the weekend.” She says, pushing it shut behind him as he enters. “What could possibly be so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” 

Just as Sokka opens his mouth, the sound of approaching footsteps from down the hall draws his attention. 

“So who was it?” 

Aang stops dead at the entryway to the living room, his eyes wide when he sees Sokka standing just a few feet from where Katara is. Sokka looks back at him, just as surprised. The only article of clothing Aang has on is a pair of bright yellow boxers plastered with blue clouds, and he clearly wasn’t expecting to walk from Katara’s bedroom out to an audience. He breaks into an uncomfortable, high pitched chuckle as he tries to play everything off, leaning against the doorframe with as much nonchalance as he can muster. 

“ _ Heyyy _ , Sokka. I uh-- didn’t know you planned on stopping by.” 

Sokka looks over at Katara with a raised eyebrow, his arms folded over his chest. “ _ ‘Sleeping’ _ , huh?” 

She scowls. “What is it that you so desperately need to tell me?”

Sokka drops his backpack and walks over to sit on the couch, placing his hands on his knees as he takes a deep breath. 

“Okay, so you know how Zuko is busy every Friday and how I thought he just had a secret boyfriend or something?” They both nod and he continues. “Well, it turns out that literally could not have been more wrong about what he’s actually been doing.” 

“He has an online job.” Katara cuts in, drawing a strange look from Sokka. “He told me earlier today when I was helping him with his choreography. What’s so weird about that?” 

He glances at her with furrowed brows. “Zuko  _ told  _ you he cams?” 

“Wait,  _ I’m sorry?”  _ She asks, stunned. “Zuko does  _ what?”  _

“He’s a camboy.” Sokka answers. “That’s why he was being so vague and secretive about everything. He goes live on Friday nights and  _ that’s  _ why he can’t come out with us anymore.” 

Katara and Aang stand there in shock, gawking back at Sokka as if he has two heads. 

“You’re joking.” Aang insists. 

Sokka shakes his head. “I’m one hundred percent serious.” 

“How did you even find out about this?” Katara asks, her face still twisted in confusion. “Did Zuko tell you this?” 

Sokka scoffs. “Hell no, of course he didn’t. I found his username for the camming site he uses.” 

Aang raises an eyebrow. “You just  _ found  _ it? Lying around?” He asks. “That really doesn’t sound like Zuko to be so careless.” 

Sokka looks back and forth between the two of them, noting their suspicious expressions. “...I know. Pretty out of character for him, if I say so myself--” 

“You were snooping through his stuff, weren’t you?” 

He turns his head towards Katara, his eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t think I appreciate your tone--” 

“ _ Sokka!”  _

“Okay! Yes, maybe I was, but--” 

“But what?” She asks. “What on Earth could you possibly say that would make going through someone’s things a less shitty thing to do?!”

“All I wanted was the Netflix password,  _ Katara. _ ” Sokka says, his tone defensive. “Which is something he already  _ gave  _ me, I just got locked out because Zuko’s  _ paranoid,  _ and he logs out nearly every damn day. It wasn’t like I was looking for something he didn’t already tell me.” 

Her expression doesn’t change. “You can’t be serious. That still doesn’t give you the right to go through his stuff.” She snaps. “You know, I really thought that when you moved out of Gran-Gran’s, you’d grow up and learn how to show the people you live with even one  _ ounce  _ of respect for their privacy--” 

“Katara, I get that you’ve still got some childhood gripes you wanna get off your chest, but I ‘m begging you to let them wait.” Sokka rubs at his temple. “I  _ came  _ here because I’m freaking out and don’t know what to do now that I know all this shit.”

“...Why do you need to do something about it?” Aang asks, moving closer to the common area. “I mean, yeah, it’s really unexpected, but there isn’t anything wrong with having that kind of job--” 

“I’m not saying anything’s wrong with it. Hell, I think it’s really smart, to be completely honest,” Sokka says. “It’s the fact that _he_ doesn’t know that _I_ know, and clearly he didn’t _want_ anyone to know or else he would’ve told us by now.” 

“Ohhh,” Aang nods. “Now I see the problem. You’re worried things are gonna be awkward.” 

“Of course I am! How am I supposed to walk around our apartment and act normal now that I’ve got this secret knowledge that there’s a totally different, sluttier version of Zuko hidden inside the socially-awkward, hot-headed version of him?” 

Katara sighs audibly and shifts her weight onto one foot. “Sokka, you’re being way more dramatic about this than you need to be.” 

“How am I being dramatic?!” 

“I dunno, I kinda get it.” Aang puts in, earning a look from her. “I mean, what if you randomly found out Jin did that type of thing? You wouldn’t feel even the slightest bit awkward knowing it was supposed to be a secret?” 

“If my roommate was a camgirl, I’d act like an adult and mind my business,” Katara says firmly. “Just let it go, Sokka. You’ll probably forget about it in a few days anyway.” 

“I’m  _ not  _ gonna forget. You really think I would’ve come all the way here if I just thought I could ‘forget about it’?” He asks.

“That’s a fair point,” Aang replies, thinking a bit. “Maybe you should just tell him and get it over with. You know, so you can rip the band-aid off before the tension gets worse.” 

“What? No! That’s an awful idea!” Katara insists. “Zuko  _ clearly  _ wasn’t comfortable with people knowing about this. You shouldn’t have even told  _ us _ , for god sakes! Why on earth would knowing that you know make things better?” 

Sokka strokes his chin. “You know what? You’re probably right Aang. I should just get it over with, shouldn’t I?” 

“Are you kidding me?!  _ No! _ ” 

“I mean, I think that’s the most practical solution,” Aang says. “Everything should just be out in the air. In the very least, I think he’ll appreciate your honesty.” 

Katara groans. “Are you two even listening to me?” 

“I’m listening! I just think Aang may have the right idea.” Sokka replies, gesturing to him. “At the end of the day, I  _ am _ the one who has to live with him. If I went with your suggestion, I’d just be living in a constant state of stress that could easily be alleviated with a single conversation.”

“The fact that you’re convinced Zuko will take this well is baffling to me.” Katara throws her hands up in frustration as she walks past Aang, traveling back towards her room. “I’m done. You want to make your relationship with Zuko unimaginably more difficult, be my guest. Just don’t come crying to me at midnight again when it blows up in your face.” 

“Speaking of it being almost midnight,” Sokka leans to the side, peering past Aang. “Can I crash on your couch? It’s like a half-hour train ride back to Brooklyn and the A-Train gets weird this time of night--”

He’s cut short as Katara sticks an arm out of her room, chucking a pillow into his face at full force. Sokka stumbles back a bit as it falls down into his arms, pausing before he speaks again. 

“Would it be possible to get a blanket too, favorite baby sister?” 

Her door slams shut in response. Sokka grimaces and rolls his eyes, tossing the pillow over onto the couch. “Jeez.” 

“I think she keeps some spare blankets in the hall closet,” Aang tells him. “I’ll go grab one for you.” 

“Thanks buddy.” Sokka replies, approaching to place a hand on his shoulder. “Just do me one more favor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hold off on whatever you and Katara were doing before I was here.” He says, making Aang’s face flush red. “These walls are thin, and I would very much appreciate not having to live through two traumatizing events in one night, thank you very much.” 

The embarrassment is written all over Aang’s cheeks, but he manages a nervous smile as he nods. “I got ya.” 

Sokka gives him a thumbs-up as he walks backward, letting himself fall over the arm of the sofa. “You’re the MVP.” 

* * *

  
When Sokka gets back into the apartment, he’s realized that the confidence he’d felt ten hours ago has seemingly evaporated. 

He’d come up with an entire course of action on the train ride home. He knows Zuko works today and he’s off, so he’d prepare himself a long island iced tea in a wine glass (for show) and leave an empty glass on the island. Zuko would come in during the afternoon and Sokka would be waiting there for him, glass in hand and sitting on the edge of one of the barstools. 

_ “Zuko, beloved.”  _ He’d say, gesturing to a barstool.  _ “Have a seat, pour yourself a drink. Let’s chat.”  _

A wrench is immediately thrown into that plan when Sokka walks in and sees Zuko  _ not  _ at work and sitting on the couch, nursing a steaming cup of tea as he shifts under the blanket over him. Sokka feels his nerve disintegrate as Zuko turns to look at him, waving as he approaches. 

“Hey.” Zuko says, his tone mildly surprised. “I didn’t even realize you weren’t home.” 

“Yeah I um—“ Sokka pauses, trying to think of a convincing lie. “I went back out to Yu Dao early this morning cause I forgot to get oyster mushrooms for a recipe I’m making today.” 

Zuko nods. “Cool. What are you making?” 

Sokka blinks. “Um. Uh— Aang! Aang told me that he had this good vegan uh— po boy! At this restaurant in Flatbush.” He says. “Apparently, they used oyster mushrooms instead of real oysters. It sounded like a nice challenge, so I thought I’d give it a shot.” 

“That does sound interesting.” Zuko replies, looking back at the T.V. “Let me know how that goes.” 

“I sure will,” Sokka chuckles uncomfortably. “So, uh, did you take the day off? I thought you had to open the tea shop today.” 

Zuko shakes his head. “I did, but I woke up feeling pretty nauseous for some reason.” He says. “At first I told my uncle I’d come down if I felt better later on, but it’s been coming in waves so far. I thought it’d be best if I just played it safe and stayed home.” 

“Well, I sure do hope you feel better!” Sokka says a touch too enthusiastically, so focused on sounding casual that he’s overcompensating. “I should probably go get ready for work.’

‘’I thought you worked at one today?”

“I do-- but I’m uh, going in early.”

“Three  _ hours  _ early?” 

“Um, yeah!” Sokka replies, power walking toward the hall. “What can I say? I always got my nose to the grindstone.” 

Before Zuko can even question him he’s speeding out of the room, desperate to escape the unbearable amount of awkwardness he feels. Katara might be right, maybe he  _ is  _ being over dramatic, but this was a situation unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. She can’t blame him for not really knowing how to act. 

Zuko glances over his shoulder before looking away, waiting for the sound of Sokka’s door closing before lifting his phone from the coffee table. He scrolls through the few missed calls he’d gotten from Mai and taps the latest entry, plugging a headphone into his ear as the line rings. 

Her face fills almost all of the screen when she answers. Her heavily lined eyes stare back at Zuko with little amusement, her expression deadpanned as he starts to speak. 

“Hey, I--” 

“Stop ignoring me you dick.” 

Zuko sighs, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I’ve been sleeping most of the morning.” He says. “I woke up and nearly puked all over the floor. Cut me a little slack.” 

“Oh no! Are you feeling okay? Did you take anything?”

He knows the voice; it isn’t Mai’s but he recognizes it immediately. The view turns away from her and over to the corner of the room, giving Zuko full view of his smiling, chestnut-haired friend, currently rummaging through Mai’s closet. 

“Oh, hey Ty Lee.” Zuko waves. “Yeah, the minute I told my uncle I was feeling nauseous this morning, he practically ran upstairs to bring me some ginger tea. I think it’s helping.” 

“Oh good, I’m glad to hear that.” She says, removing a random black article of clothing from the closet and tossing it onto the bed. “You know, my mom used to tell me and my sisters to smell some rubbing alcohol to get rid of nausea fast! You can try that too if you need to.”

Zuko tries to hide his grimace. The thought of the overbearing, chemical scent of alcohol in his nose makes his stomach turn for the millionth time that morning. 

“I think I’ll be okay.” He replies, taking another sip of his tea. “Thanks for the tip though.” 

“Of course!” 

Mai turns the camera back to face her. “Okay, if you two granola moms are done swapping homeopathic remedies, can we move on?”

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” Zuko says. “What’s up?” 

“Well, sunshine over here told me a tidbit of information I think you’d benefit from knowing.” 

He raises a brow, looking at the sliver of Ty Lee that’s on camera. “Really?” 

“Oh yeah!” She turns away from the closet, walking closer as she carries a few garments in her arms. “Mai told me you were worried about Jet snooping on your channel.” 

“...Right.” Zuko replies. His eyes glide over to Mai as he tries to decide whether or not to be annoyed with her putting his business out there. 

“Well luckily for you, CamNation has a feature that lets you block certain states from seeing your channel.” She says. “You have to dig in your preferences to find it, but it’s there.” 

His eyes widen. “You’re kidding me.” 

“Nope!” Ty Lee replies curtly. “I kinda forgot about it cause I haven’t used CamNation for camming in a while, but yep! They do.” 

Zuko looks at Mai. “You’re telling me  _ you _ didn’t know about this?” 

“I never went looking for it. I don’t really give a shit who sees my channel.” She says, shrugging. “If people don’t wanna be buddy-buddy with me after they know what I do on my own time, then that’s their problem, not mine.” 

Zuko sighs through his nose. He wishes he could do it with that mindset, but _fuck._ The idea of someone recognizing him from his streams is what his nightmares are made of. 

“Thank  _ God _ .” He says, visibly relieved. “That’s really helpful to know. Thank you so much.” 

“Of course, Zukey!” Ty Lee smiles as she flops down onto the bed next to Mai, successfully knocking one of her fluffy red throw pillows to the ground. “Whatcha got planned today if you feel better?” 

Zuko chuckles silently. “Nothing, really. I’ve been working a lot. I figured I’d just use today to recoup for once.” 

“That makes sense.” She replies. “I thought maybe you might be up to something with that cute roomie you’ve got.” 

“You’ve seen Sokka?” 

“No, she found his social media and stalked his pages like a psycho.” Mai responds for her, rolling her eyes. “Count your roommate lucky that he doesn’t live in California. I don’t know if he could handle Ty Lee’s level of crazy.” 

“Mai! I’m  _ not  _ crazy. I just have high standards.” Ty Lee tells her, pushing her shoulder. “As everyone should. Including you, Zuko!” 

“Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m not settling next time.” His fingertips tap against the warm ceramic in his hands. “I’m gonna assume you two are going out tonight?” 

Ty Lee nods enthusiastically, an excited grin adorning her face. “We’re going to Nikki’s in Landale Town Center and I’m  _ so  _ pumped. They have the  _ cutest  _ lingerie there and we’re gonna get matching sets for next week’s stream--” 

Zuko blinks, confused. “Wait, what?” 

“We’re getting lingerie?” Mai repeats. “You know, for the next time Ty Lee and I go live?” 

His brows furrow and he narrows his eyes, desperately trying to figure out what they’re referring to. “What are you talking about? You guys are  _ camming  _ together?” 

They nod. 

“Zuko, I know I told you about this.” Mai says.

“No you didn’t.” 

“Yes, I did.” 

“Mai,  _ no  _ you did not. I would remember if you did, I can guarantee that.” 

She sighs loudly. “Well, whatever. Now you know. Surprise, I guess.” 

Zuko needs a minute to process the concept. They’d all been friends as long as he could remember. Well, save Azula. She’d fallen out of the group long before now. Mai and Ty Lee were always his closest companion until moving out of state; they’d been a trio of sorts. The idea of them suddenly breaking a major boundary in their friendship to cam together is challenging for Zuko to understand, to say the very least. 

“So, you guys, hold on--” He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You two just randomly decided to start working together? Out of nowhere?” 

“Well, we joked about it for a while.” Ty Lee replies, twirling the end of her braid around her finger. “But then a week or so ago we kinda just realized, ‘Hey, this might actually be a good idea.’.” 

“Yeah,” Mai says. “Couples channels make a shitload more than solo performers, so...” 

“...I--” Zuko hesitates. “It was that easy?” 

Mai raises a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, like. I don’t know? You guys are such close friends.” He explains. “To just decide to start having sex one day-- that didn’t make things weird? At all?” 

The two of them look at each other for a brief moment before looking back at Zuko. 

“Nah.” 

“Not really.” 

He’s at a loss for words. He can’t fathom how nonchalant they seem to be about all this. Zuko also can’t wrap his head around the idea that any one person can endure the awkwardness that would come with that sort of set up, especially with someone they’re already so close to. Drunk kisses and lap dances at a party were one thing, but full blown  _ sex?  _ That was a completely different animal. 

“Uh. Wow, okay. That’s shocking.” 

“I mean, money is money, Zuko.” Mai tells him, pushing a few long locks of hair over her shoulder. “It’s possible to maintain a normal relationship in a situation like this if you’re mature about it. Mind boggling, I know.” 

Zuko runs a hand over his hair. “Maybe for you guys, but I don’t know. That seems like it requires a lot of...compartmentalizing.”

“Oh come on, Zuko. It’s really not as weird as you’re making it out to be.” Ty Lee assures him. “You don’t have an on-screen persona? A character you just slip into when you’re on camera?” 

He does, now that he thinks about it. Zuko tries his best to come off as confident and sensual when he’s streaming. He’d learned very quickly that if he  _ doesn’t  _ put himself in a different headspace than normal, it’s ridiculously harder to relax and actually enjoy himself, especially with the knowledge that hundreds of faceless strangers are watching his every move. 

“I guess so.” 

“Well, just imagine it’s your personas rather than just the two of you.” Ty Lee goes on. “You can totally just let your hair down and have fun, but in a cool, sexy way. Get it?” 

Zuko loosely grasps the concept. 

“I think so?” 

“I’d highly recommend it.” Mai says, leaning back onto her arms. “If you’ve got any hot guy friends you think would fit the bill, go for it.” 

Ty Lee’s face lights up. “Oh my God, you should  _ totally  _ ask Sokka. Your audience would love him!” 

Zuko nearly chokes on his own spit, wide-eyed and distraught at her suggestion. 

“ _ No!”  _

“Oh come on,” She presses, her smirk devious. “It’d be so convenient! You guys could go live literally any time you wanted. Besides, he’s so cute! He’d totally win over your regulars.” 

“Ty Lee, I am  _ not  _ fucking my roommate on camera.” Zuko stresses. “I think Sokka’s straight anyway--” 

“‘ _ Think’.”  _ Ty Lee holds up a finger. “You don’t know for sure. He might be totally down for it; you never know.” 

“I’m not gonna-- why would I--” He groans. “Mai? Am I crazy?” 

Mai purses her lips as she glances away, her brows high. “Well, Ty Lee isn’t wrong. It’d be a pretty nice set up.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I’m just saying. I think it’s definitely worth considering, at least.” Mai tells him. “Worst he can do is say no.” 

“There is literally  _ so  _ much worse that could happen.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve talked with my other cam friends about it. Treat it like a business deal and you’d be surprised with how far that alone can get you.” 

Zuko shakes his head, done with the conversation. “I’m good. Thanks for the suggestion, though.” He says. “I’m glad that arrangement is working out for you two.” 

Ty Lee looks as if she’s about to say something, but Mai chimes in just before she can speak. “Well, hopefully it’ll keep paying off.” 

Right as Zuko opens his mouth, the sound of a doorknob clicking in the distance grabs his attention. He whips his head to look down the hall, seeing Sokka’s door beginning to open. 

“Fuck, that’s Sokka.” He says quietly, picking up his phone from the coffee table. “I gotta go. I’ll text you guys later.” 

“Byeeee!” Ty Lee sings, waving. “Keep what I said in mind!” 

“Bye.” 

The call ends with a beep and Zuko takes his headphone out of his ear as he sees Sokka leave his bedroom, walking down to the linen closet to grab a towel. He takes a deep breath of relief and sits back into the cushions, thankful he’d just missed having Sokka possibly overhear his phone call. 

Zuko glances over him. Sokka spent a decent amount of his time in the apartment mulling around in his boxers, just as he was currently doing. Zuko narrows his eyes, studying the exposed bits of Sokka’s skin that he can see. He doesn’t necessarily want to give the thought of camming with his roommate much residence in his mind, but he can’t help but look out of curiosity, considering the possibility of what it might be like. 

When Sokka turns away from the closet and starts down the hall, Zuko snaps his head back so fast he could have given himself whiplash. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sokka’s form disappear into the bathroom and his heart rate falls back to its normal pace. Zuko blinks a few times, staring at the few drops of tea left in his empty mug as he searches his mind for clarity. 

No, Ty Lee and Mai were  _ wrong _ and this is a bad idea, he knows that. Despite this, however, the thought ebs in and out of his brain as the day passes on, refusing to leave him be until he finally turns in later that night. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per usual thank you for all the lovely feedback ✨

Sokka’s week is a weird one.

Everytime he wants to sit down and talk with Zuko, he chickens out. He’d run into Zuko in the living room, see him sitting on the couch with nothing occupying his attention other than his phone, and still hastily make a beeline for his bedroom rather than utter a word about the camming situation . 

This happened almost every day, like clockwork. Sokka would see a perfect opportunity to just sit down and talk with Zuko, but he’d freeze up thinking about the next step. How was he even supposed to  _ begin  _ this conversation?

_ “Hey, Zuko, so I was going through your room and found out you cam as a result of that. Anyways, I support you dude. You do you.”  _

There was no way he could phrase it that wouldn’t end up with Zuko pissed at him for at least some amount of time. He didn’t  _ like  _ tension; he didn’t enjoy it when Zuko was mad at him. Zuko’s anger was intense and painful to be the recipient of. Sokka was far more adverse to  _ that _ than the awkwardness he felt keeping this secret from Zuko. 

In addition to that emotional whirlwind, a thought was gnawing at the back of his mind and absolutely refused to be quiet: 

_ ‘I think I’m attracted to Zuko.’  _

At least in some shape or form. He has the thought lying in bed one night, staring at the ceiling and watching the fan spin round. Little moments over the past week or so had kept piling up; little things that Sokka stopped being able to write off as just an “observation” or “admiration of his friend’s attractiveness”. 

The day before, he’d nearly caught himself drooling when he’d seen Zuko leave the bathroom after a shower; his dark hair was wet and clung to his shoulders like ivy. As Zuko walked by his bedroom door, Sokka inhaled deeply at the beads of fragrant water running down his shoulders and back, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Zuko’s bedroom door opening.

There’d been a lot of moments like this that had ignited a deep confusion in Sokka’s head. Things that hadn’t really phased him before about Zuko were suddenly at the forefront of his mind. 

Zuko chews his lip when he’s thinking hard about something. Sokka had noticed when he’d seen him playing a particularly challenging videogame in the living room once that week. Zuko sat with controller in hand, his brow knit and thumb cautiously hovering over the d-pad. The way he bit his bottom lip, his teeth gliding over it as he overthought an efficient way to solve the level, struck a chord so deep within Sokka that he knew he couldn’t ignore it much longer. 

Zuko was also unnecessarily fit. Sokka knew he was a dancer and all, and that dancers at his level of prowess probably had to be in pretty good shape, but good _lord._ He’d never actually paid that close attention until recently. 

Zuko had skirted around him while Sokka cooked potato gratin one morning. He tiredly greeted him and remarked that Sokka had a lot of potatoes in front of him for one single dish. Sokka weakly chuckled and made some snappy comment, trying his best to hide his fixation on the fact that Zuko’s shirt was  _ way  _ too small. Sokka had seen the shirt before and knew it must’ve shrunk in the wash; it wasn’t nearly that size the last time he’d laid eyes on it. Now, however, Zuko’s old university tee clung to his torso, outlining almost every muscle that defined his upper half. 

_ ‘Have his biceps always been that toned?’  _ Sokka thinks, visibly stressed as he chops a potato.  _ ‘His shoulders were  _ **_not_ ** _ that broad last week.’  _

His eyes stay on Zuko as he turns away, now searching through the pantry for something to eat.

_ ‘Does this man have a single  _ **_ounce_ ** _ of fat on his body?’  _

_ ‘I wonder how his chest feels—‘ _

Sokka snapped himself out of it at the last thought, blinking in confusion as he attempted to figure out what the hell caused that to pop into his head. 

His focus was short lived. His attention was drawn over towards Zuko when he’d seen him stretch his arms above his head. Sokka turned a few more inches in his direction, watching as the shirt came up a few inches above his waist. He’d just barely seen Zuko’s abs—tight and toned and thoroughly making Sokka feel a plethora of emotions he couldn’t make sense of. His eyes flicked downward and fixed on Zuko’s waistband, drinking in the beginnings of a dark, happy-trail that led down into his sweatpants. 

Things like this, small moments where Sokka would stare just a  _ little  _ bit too long, are happening more and more frequently. So much so that deluding himself into believing they’re nothing is becoming less and less feasible. 

Sokka can’t fully wrap his head around it though. All of this was happening just because he’d unintentionally seen Zuko naked? He’s seen naked men before. This shouldn’t be something that made him question his sexuality. 

The only other explanation was that it’s  _ because  _ it’s Zuko; because he already has that association with him. Sokka already knows Zuko’s personality, he isn’t some faceless, nameless male performer that he barely pays attention to while watching porn. Something about how Zuko carries himself, his slight temper, the way his voice is raspy in the morning--

Sokka shakes his head. That was a new one. He’ll just add it to the ever growing list of things he apparently found attractive about Zuko.

Regardless of whether or not he can make sense of it all, he can’t deny that he feels  _ something  _ for Zuko. It’s overwhelming and confusing and weird all at the same time. He has to sort through the jumbled mess his brain is right now, but he knows that he can’t do it alone.   
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Why couldn’t we have just smoked in the alleyway?” Toph asks, holding onto Sokka’s arm as he guides her off the fire escape. She takes a hesitant step onto the concrete and stays close, letting him walk her across the rooftop. “I’ve never even been up here before.”

“Because, Iroh’s in his apartment and I don’t wanna risk him smelling anything.” He replies. “Besides, Zuko spruced up the patio. There’s like, chairs and shit now.” 

“Oh boy,  _ chairs _ .” She cups her cheek, feigning excitement. “It must be like a five star hotel up here.” 

“Oh would you be quiet?” 

Sokka leads her over to one of the three beach chairs lined against the edge of the half wall, letting her sit before finally letting go of her arm. Toph feels around a bit, taking in the lay of the chair down to its fraying fabric. 

“You know, getting me up here could’ve been a lot easier if you just let me bring my cane.” She tells him, slinking her backpack over her shoulder. “It’s literally  _ made  _ for me to use it to get around places I don’t know.” 

“Maybe, but I’m not sure how helpful it’d be on a  _ ladder _ , Tophy Dearest.” 

Sokka wishes he’d had the forethought to realize that leading Toph up to the top of the building might have been more challenging than he’d imagined. It hadn’t crossed his mind when he’d wandered down into the Jasmine Dragon right before they’d closed for the night, casually creeping over to the counter to quietly give Toph a proposition. 

She’d been counting the change in her till and jumped when Sokka snuck up on her, swearing and asking what the hell his problem was. He simmered her down quickly, leaning in closely as he spoke. 

_ “Hey, you wanna match later?”  _

It takes Toph by surprise. Her eyebrows go up and she turns toward his voice

_ “You have weed?”  _

He did. Not a lot, but he did. Sokka didn’t usually smoke on his own. It wasn’t exactly fun when he was by himself, alone in his room with the waves of his own repressed thoughts washing over him every ten seconds. 

On the rare occasion, however, he’d make a few exceptions. One, he was at some sort of social gathering; the noise of his own thoughts could be drowned out with stupid jokes and the company of someone other than himself. The other, being that he was one blood pressure spike away from a stress induced heart attack. He’d spent most if not all of the past week teetering on that edge, and now, he’s desperate for anything that can mellow him out even a  _ little  _ bit.

Sokka’s eyes watch Toph’s hands as she starts removing objects from her bag, seemingly from muscle memory at this point. She sets a marble, jade green pipe on the ground, followed by a silver water bottle and a small, plastic dime bag. She fishes out a rusty metal grinder and removes the lid, gesturing to Sokka with one hand. 

“Weed, please.” 

He pats his body until he finds it tucked into his back pocket. Toph practically snatches it when he places it in her palm, dumping it into the grinder along with her own. 

“So,” She starts, her wrist twisting back and forth. “What’s got you all worked up recently?” 

“What are you talking about?” Sokka asks, sitting back in the beach chair. “I’m not worked up. I just wanted to smoke.” 

She scoffs. “I haven’t seen you even  _ look  _ at weed in like, months. Something’s gotta be eating you for you to ask me out of nowhere like this.” 

“Toph, I have friends other than you guys, you know.” He says. “You have no idea how much I smoke when I’m around other people--” 

“Fine, when was the last time you smoked?” She asks plainly. “Better yet, who were you with?” 

Sokka pauses. “I--um,” 

“Quickly.” 

“How is that fair?!” 

“Tick, tock...” 

“Okay fine! You’ve made your point!” He snaps. “I’ve been kind of stressed lately. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“Well, no, because I asked you  _ what  _ was stressing you out.” Toph removes the lid again, picking up her pipe as she begins dumping the contents into the well. “But given how dodgy you’re being, I’m gonna go ahead and assume it must be a pretty big deal.” 

“Hey, could you do me a favor and stop trying to read me for a second?” Sokka asks, folding his arms across his chest. “Maybe I just wanna enjoy my high in peace.” 

“Oh Sokka, you came to the  _ wrong  _ person if that’s what you were after.” 

“Is it not possible for us to just sit quietly next to one another and smoke?” 

“Why in the world would you ask me to match if  _ that’s  _ what you wanted?” 

Sokka can’t think of a good answer in his head, because Toph does have a point. He only goaded her up here so he could be in the company of someone else. Subconsciously, however, Sokka has a feeling that he  _ needs  _ to get all of this shit with Zuko off his chest and tell someone what’s going on. As more time passes, it’s clear who his only real choice is. 

“It’s a long story,” he says flatly. 

“Is it really?” 

“Why do you keep debating me on every single thing I say?” 

“I’m just asking, sheesh.” Toph removes a lighter from her jacket pocket and holds the flame over the pipe, inhaling as a faint red glow burns along the bowl. She lifts her thumb and takes a deep breath, promptly exhaling into the cool, night air. “A lot of times people say something’s a long story when it really isn’t, they just don’t feel like telling it.” 

Sokka sits up as Toph hands the pipe to him, taking the lighter in his other hand. “You ever think that maybe there’s a reason why I don’t want to?” 

She lowers her lids. “Would you have invited me up here if you  _ didn’t  _ wanna talk about whatever it is?” 

“...I don’t think that’s a fair question—” 

“Sokka! Come on! Stop beating around the bush!” 

“FINE. Fine!” 

Even he’s sick of dancing around it at this point. Sokka looks forward as he brings the bowl to his lips, lighting and puffing with more ease than he’s expecting, having not smoked in months. He coughs once or twice on exhale but doesn’t hack like he’d done in his earlier days. Sokka stares up as white ribbons of smoke dissolve into the sky. He clears his throat and hands the pipe back to Toph, searching his brain for a way to get out what he’s trying to say. 

“Um... _ so,”  _ Sokka looks over at her. “You’re still gay, right?” 

Toph snorts. “Yeah, my lesbian-club membership just got renewed actually.” 

“Shut up,” He says. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do, but ask a stupid question and you get a stupid answer.” She takes a hit. “Why do you ask?” 

Sokka lets a beat pass, aimlessly looking around the rooftop. “I dunno. I guess I’ve been feeling kinda...weird, lately.” 

“Weird how?” Toph asks, raising a brow. “Weird about your sexuality?” 

“Yes? I think?” He closes his eyes in frustration. It isn’t easy to put into words, and he’s not sure himself what he’s been feeling. The strong high clouding his mind isn’t exactly helping, either. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.” 

“Complicated?” Toph hands the pipe back to him. “Do you think you might be gay or something?” 

“What? No. Not at all.” He at least knows that with some certainty. “I just...think I might be less straight than I thought I was.” 

“What makes you say that?” 

The thought of Zuko flashes in his mind and Sokka shrugs. 

“Um, nothing in particular--” 

“Sokka, don’t lie to me.” 

“Who said I was lying?!” He asks, exasperated. “I’ve just been giving the concept of men more thought recently--” 

“So you expect me to believe that was just a random realization that you had? Completely out of nowhere?” 

“Yes? Why is that so hard to believe?” 

“Because, you’re  _ Sokka. _ ” Toph tells him, laughing under her breath. “You overthink literally everything. This is  _ not  _ something you’d just discover overnight.” She says. “Who was it? Which hot bachelor in your life got your engine revving? Come on, you can tell me.” 

He coughs on his next exhale. “Toph, I told you nothing prompted this!” 

“Bullshit.” She replies, turning her head towards him. “I can just start listing off people until I guess right.” 

“I swear to God,  _ do not--”  _

She strokes her chin. “Let’s see, is it Haru?” 

“No--” 

“Didn’t think so. What about Teo? Teo sounds cute.” 

“Toph, no! Would you  _ stop-- _ ” 

“Is it  _ Aang?”  _

Sokka looks over at her, his face white with horror. “What the fuck?  _ No! _ Of course not! Aang’s like my brother! Why would you even ask me that?”

“I’m just covering all the possibilities since you won’t just spit it out!” Toph suddenly goes quiet, raising her brows as she covers her mouth. “Holy shit, is it  _ Zuko? _ ”

Sokka feels the wind go out of his lungs like a balloon. His voice gets caught in his throat and a squeak comes out rather than a reply. Toph practically bounces with excitement at the display, a grin plastered across her cheeks. 

“Oh my fucking God!  _ It is! _ You totally want a piece of Zuko!” 

“Stop yelling!” 

“Why? Are you afraid he’s gonna hear us up here?” Toph swings her legs over the chair and climbs to her feet, cupping her hands over her mouth as she calls into the night sky. “SOKKA HAS A GIANT FUCKING CRUSH ON ZUKO!”

“Why are you like this?! Sit down!” Sokka nearly drops the pipe as he scrambles to grab her by the arm. “We’re smoking  _ weed  _ up here, Toph! Stop drawing attention to us like we’re not doing something  _ really  _ fucking illegal right now!” 

She sits back down in a huff, kicking her legs up on the beach chair. “Fine, if you insist.” Her pout is short lived as her smile returns. “But you like  _ Zuko,  _ and that’s the important thing right now.” 

Sokka feels like he can’t get a word in to explain himself and it’s incredibly frustrating. Why couldn’t he just have manned up enough to tell Katara how he was feeling? Sure, it wouldn’t have been the most comfortable conversation he’d ever had, but it had to be better than  _ this.  _

“It really isn't that simple.” He says, rubbing his temples. “I really don’t have a fucking clue what I feel towards him and it’s infuriating.” 

“Dude, what happened?” She asks. “Why did this  _ just  _ start? You two have known each other for years.” 

Sokka purses his lips. There is no conceivable way he can answer that question without not only exposing the questionable things he’d been up to in the last week, but also putting Zuko's business out in the open  _ again _ . He already felt bad about telling Katara and Aang about the entire thing. Toph was a wild card, and telling her that Zuko was a camboy carried far too many risks.

“I dunno. I guess I’ve just been paying more attention to him recently,” he settles on. 

Sokka wasn’t lying. He  _ had  _ been watching Zuko far more intensely than he ever had throughout their friendship. So much so that Sokka was  _ definitely  _ afraid that Zuko already thought he was kind of a creep.

“And?” 

He looks over, confused. “‘And’? What do you mean ‘and’?” 

“ _ And,  _ how has that changed things?” She clarifies. “You think you have a crush on him now?” 

No, that didn’t sit right. Calling what he’s feeling a crush felt a little too innocent for what it was. 

“Not quite?” Sokka replies, unsure. 

“Oh, so you just wanna hit it and quit it then, huh?” Toph asks. “I gotta tell ya, considering that you two live together, I’m not sure that option would really work out for you—“ 

“Toph, I am begging you to  _ please  _ let me talk.” 

She closes her mouth, gesturing to him with a miffed sigh. “Fine, go on.” 

“Thank you.” Sokka says, relieved. He settles into the folding chair, his back pressed against the fraying strips of fabric. “For the past week or so, it feels like Zuko’s been the only thing I can think about.” 

“Oh boy, that’s already pretty telling.” 

“Quiet.” He says. “It’s like, everytime I look at him I notice something new that makes me wanna pay more attention to him. Like, Zuko’s  _ so  _ attractive, Toph. Offensively attractive. How is it even legal to be  _ that  _ hot? Without even trying?” 

Toph’s eyes fix out in front of her as her lips press into a thin line, letting Sokka ramble on. 

“My brain is getting hung up on every little thing he does.” He continues. “Like, Zuko looked at me while he was laughing at some stupid joke I made yesterday and I thought I was gonna die. His eyes are like, golden. Pure  _ gold. _ It’s insane and it made me feel like I had heartburn--” 

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Toph cackles. “Zuko gave you  _ butterflies?  _ Oh god, Sokka you’ve got it  _ bad _ .” 

He stares out across the roof, his mouth agape as he thinks. “Oh my God. I did get butterflies, didn’t I? Shit. Shit!” He grabs at his hair. “I’m twenty two! I’m a grown  _ man!  _ Why the hell am I getting butterflies for someone like I’m ten or something?” 

“Because you  _ do  _ have a crush on him, dummy.” She pushes his shoulder. “Zuko awakened the bi in you and now you don’t know how to cope.” 

Sokka throws his head against the back of the chair, groaning at the sky. “ _ Whyyyy?”  _

“I mean, there’s also a decent chance you’re just infatuated with him.” Toph adds, taking another hit from the pipe. “But at the end of the day, you’re still infatuated with a  _ guy _ , so you might as well throw that whole ‘I’m definitely straight’ nonsense out the window.” 

He groans again and turns his head towards her, his eyes tired. “So what do I do?” 

“I dunno.” 

“What do you  _ mean _ you don’t know?!” 

“Look, Sokka, I’m not the fucking ‘Head of the Gays’. I can’t tell you how to deal with your first crush on a guy.” She snaps. “The best advice I can give you is to give it a week and see how you feel. Infatuation doesn’t usually last super long.” 

“A week sounds like a really long time, Toph.” 

“Well, if you’re not actually into him, then it won’t feel that long because you’re not gonna be looking at him through rose colored glasses anymore.” She replies. “Right now it sounds like you’re just  _ really  _ fascinated with him, and that’s normal. Just give it time, Sokka. Your brain will sort it out eventually.” 

It isn’t the answer he wants, but he knows it’s probably the right one. Sokka knew in the back of his mind that there wasn’t going to be a simple, clean cut method of figuring out what he’d been feeling. Having it reiterated by someone else was a different story, however. 

“What if it turns out that I am into him?” 

Toph purses her lips and shrugs. “Why don’t we cross that bridge when we come to it, huh champ?” 

He sighs. “Fair enough.” 

She reaches over to hand the pipe back to Sokka, but he waves her off. 

“I’m good.” He says. “I think if I keep going, this might not be a fun high anymore.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

They sit there, quietly enjoying each other’s company for an amount of time Sokka can’t quite discern. The floaty feeling in his brain is clouding his ability to properly judge the passage of time. He leans his head back again and closes his eyes, breathing through his nose as he lets his high coax his mind into a long overdue state of peace. 

The anxiety will come flooding back when he’s sober, but he’ll deal with that tomorrow. 

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful feedback on the last chapter! It truly made me cry in the club a lil bit.

“Let’s have a guys night.” 

Zuko looks up from his phone as Sokka takes a seat at the barstool, his hand cradling a steaming plate of fluffy, Belgian waffles. He eyes the breakfast and then Sokka, squinting as confusion grows on his face. 

“‘Guys night’ as in...?” 

“You know! A guys night!” Sokka repeats, cutting into the waffle with his fork. “With like, takeout and beer and video games and stuff. Like we used to do in the good ole’ days.” 

Zuko remembers it; it’d been prior to when Sokka had moved in. Before then, he and Aang would casually invite themselves over to Zuko’s every so often with pizza and a variety of alcohol in tow. He wasn’t necessarily  _ thrilled  _ to have company show up unannounced, but he also never had a bad time with the two of them over. He'd admit, their drunk shenanigans were usually pretty entertaining. Aang was a giggly drunk and Sokka somehow became even more emboldened with confidence than he already was.

Zuko knew, however, that being too intoxicated tended to bring out his clingy side. He has a singular, vivid memory of being so wasted he’d hung all over Sokka for nearly the entire night, crabbing at him every time he tried to slip away. According to Aang, the night ended with Zuko passing out on the couch with his head in Sokka’s lap. It apparently took him three tries to get up without Zuko holding onto his leg and squirming in protest. 

With all that knowledge in mind, he’s apprehensive at Sokka's suggestion, to say the least. 

“Um, I’m not really sure if I—“ 

“ _ C’mon _ , Zukes.” Sokka cuts in, pouting. “I miss spending time with you, dude. Even though we live together it feels like we never hang out, y’know?” 

Zuko won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel bad about that. He knows he’s couped himself up away from the gang for a while. It’s not intentional; he loves spending time with them. Their gatherings always just seemed to happen at a time that was inconvenient for him in particular. 

He had tomorrow night off, however, and with the puppy-dog-eyed look Sokka’s giving him, he’s not sure he can muster up the courage to say no this time. 

“Uh...sure,” Zuko says, nodding. “yeah, we can have a ‘boys night’. Just like old times, I guess.” 

Sokka lights up. “Awesome! I’ll secure the goods. Don’t you worry your pretty little hot-head about a thing.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes as Sokka takes another bite. “Maybe we should ask Aang if tomorrow works for him? I get off at four, so we could do it whenever after then.” 

Sokka's expression shifts; his gaze drops down to the countertop while he cards through his hair. “Oh, I mean. If you want.” He says. “I was kind of thinking it’d just be like a...you and me type of thing?” 

Zuko looks surprised. “Oh.” 

“It’s just—Aang’s a great time and all, but I kinda just thought it’d be nice if it was just the two of us.” He clears his throat. “Cause like I said, we barely hang out anymore, and I think I’m  _ long _ overdue for my personal Zuko time.” 

Zuko chuckles. “It’s nice to know you enjoy my company so much.” 

“Of  _ course  _ I do, Zukes.” Sokka replies, reaching out to gently touch his hand. “What would I do without my resident drama king?” 

“Shut up.” He says back, laughing lightly. “I’ve been a lot better about my temper this year. Give me a break.” 

Sokka smirks. “You have, I can give credit where credit is due.” 

Zuko flashes a smile, one that Sokka doesn’t really see very often. It’s warm and inviting; the tension around his eyes fades away and gold in them flickers brightly. It's a tender look and Zuko has such a nice smile. Sokka’s never really appreciated it before now, and he doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Zuko tilts his head, perplexed. 

“Sokka?”

He snaps out of his daze at the mention of his name. 

“Huh? What?” 

“...Are you okay?” Zuko asks. “You look really...out of it.”

Sokka scoffs nonchalantly. “Yeah no, I’m good! I promise.” He replies. “I’m still kind of waking up. I just zoned out for a second there.” 

It sounds much less embarrassing than,  _ “I just got lost in your eyes”. _

“Um, you know, I think I’m gonna try and get some more sleep before work.” Sokka says, standing from his seat. “I kind of had a restless night. I think I could use another hour or two.”

“Oh.” Zuko watches as he sets his empty plate in the sink. “Well, okay then. I guess we’ll talk more about it later tonight?” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Sokka tells him as he nods. “I’ll hit you up as soon as I clock out so we can start getting stuff together for it. Sound like a plan?” 

Zuko nods back and Sokka gives him a thumbs up, grinning widely as he makes his way towards the door. When he leaves the kitchen, Zuko focuses on the granite countertop, his mind trying to wrap itself around what in the world just took place. 

That couldn’t have just been him, right? 

The way Sokka had looked at him wasn’t like anything he’s ever seen from him before. They’d both laughed and the silence had settled gently; he smiled and Sokka's entire face had gone from amiable to sultry in two seconds flat. The look in his eyes—the way they were half-lidded and showed him only a sliver of that icy blue—

It wasn’t his imagination, was it? That wasn’t a normal look.

Zuko shakes his head. He’s overthinking it. Sokka was probably just sleepy like he said he was. 

He’s projecting. That conversation he’d had with Mai and Ty Lee a few weeks ago is getting to him and now his brain is creating changes in Sokka's behavior where there aren’t any.

Ty Lee’s suggestion never left his mind. Zuko desperately wanted it to at first, but now that the idea was in his head, it refused to go away. He’d never really looked at Sokka in that light before. He was his  _ friend,  _ the idea of doing anything sexual with him felt foreign bouncing around in his brain.

But Mai and Ty Lee made it look so  _ easy,  _ and it still isn’t something Zuko can fully understand. To just throw all caution to the wind and start a sexual relationship, it seems like something out of a sitcom he’s not convinced that they aren’t just playing some elaborate joke on him. 

Now the idea of sleeping with Sokka casually rests in the back of his mind, occasionally being brought to the forefront in instances like this. They were moments between the two of them that were sweet and reminded Zuko why he liked Sokka in the first place. 

Zuko glances down the hall at Sokka’s closed door, this time not fighting the thought that arises in his mind. 

_ ‘Maybe it could work.’ _

  
  


* * *

  
  


Sokka’s got two armfuls of alcohol and he doesn’t even know why he thought they needed this much for  _ one  _ night. He’s already parted with fifty bucks however, and he knows the liquor store he’d bought this from doesn’t take refunds. Could he have put aside that fifty dollars for something more important? Yes. Had he already decided that tonight is important and therefore it is perfectly valid to spend money on it? Also yes. 

Sokka needs to get this shit with Zuko off his chest. It’s been weeks and he’s not sure how much longer his brain can cope with the stress of knowing something he was never supposed to. 

It isn’t as god awfully awkward now as it was the first few days after finding out, but still took up a decent amount of space in his mind. He still nervously chuckled when Zuko would ask what movie the gang was seeing and say that he wished he could go. It only got worse when he’d make up an excuse that Sokka  _ knew  _ for a fact was a lie. 

He’s tired of walking on eggshells and he’s coming clean about this one way or another. However, Sokka’s painfully aware of his own reluctance and knows he needs a  _ push— _ just a little something to help him the rest of the way when he gets an opportunity to sit down with Zuko. That push went by the name of “vodka”, and it had never failed before to coerce Sokka into saying whatever the hell was on his mind, usually at full volume. 

Sokka pushes open the Jasmine Dragon’s heavy glass door and shoulders himself in, the bell above the door ringing as it closes behind him. He strides across the dining area, smirking as he sees Toph stop leaning on the counter. 

“Hellooo, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. What can I get for y—“ 

“Relax Toph,” Sokka momentarily sets the booze on a table. “It’s just me.” 

She deflates. “Oh. Hey. What’s up Socks?” 

He frowns. “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“Then don’t respond to it, genius.” Toph picks up a straw, fiddling with the paper wrapper. “Why are you coming in through the tea shop? Do you want a drink or something?” 

Sokka shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just carrying a shitload of alcohol and this way is faster.” 

Toph raises a brow. “Are you having a party? Because if so, I am  _ highly  _ offended that I wasn’t invited—“ 

“No, no, it’s just me and Zuko.” Sokka grimaces at the knowing look that appears on Toph’s face. “Stop.” 

“I didn’t say anything, Sokka. But you were quick to jump on the defense.” She replies. “Sounds like you’ve got plans.” 

“Not those kinds of plans.” 

“I didn’t even  _ say  _ which kind.” 

“Your face says it all, Toph!” He exclaims, folding his arms. “I’m not trying anything.” 

“You mean to tell me that you’re toting a shit ton of booze upstairs to get absolutely hammered with Zuko and don’t want things to get even a  _ little _ frisky?” She sucks her teeth. “You’re placing a lot of trust in Drunk Sokka, y’ know.” 

“Excuse you. I am  _ perfectly _ capable of being rational when I’m drunk—“ 

Toph laughs unnecessarily loud, momentarily attracting the attention of a patron seated by the window. Sokka glances over and mouths the word “sorry” before they look away, refocusing on their laptop. 

“Is this the same Drunk Sokka that bought two hundred dollars worth of kitchen supplies online in one night?” She asks. “Because if not, I’d love to meet this other,  _ forward-thinking _ Drunk Sokka.” 

“Excuse me, those cooking supplies were an investment in my career, thank you very much.” He tells her. “I use my avocado slicer nearly every day.” 

“If you say so.” Toph replies, snickering. “Either way, I hope you have fun getting buzzed with Zuko. He’s fun when he’s drunk.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty entertaining.” He says. “But I won’t lie and say it isn’t kind of annoying when Chill Drunk Zuko turns into Clingy Drunk Zuko.”

Toph squints at him, not convinced. “You know, given the current circumstances, I think you and Clingy Drunk Zuko are gonna get along  _ just  _ fine.” 

“Alright, I think I’ve had enough of you for today” Sokka lifts the black plastic bag of bottles off the table. “I hope you have a lovely evening, Toph.” 

“And  _ I  _ hope you have an eventful one.” She replies, twiddling her fingers as she waves him goodbye. 

Sokka rolls his eyes and heads back towards the door that leads up into the apartments, maneuvering up the stairs with ease. He sets the bags down on the welcome mat as he fishes through his pockets for his keys. The lock was incredibly finicky, which came with the territory of living in a nearly one-hundred-year-old building. He fiddles with the lock for a solid thirty seconds only to look up in surprise as the door swings open.

“Hey.” Zuko waves with his free hand, the other one holding a crumbly granola bar as he chews nonchalantly. “You need help?” 

Sokka stands up straight, bags in hand. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.” 

He walks in and Zuko shuts the door behind him, following after him to the kitchen. He eyes the black bags and tilts his head, mildly confused. 

“That looks like a lot for just one night.” Zuko says. “I don’t even know if I’ll drink that much.” 

“I figured I could get some for the future, you know?” Sokka replies, removing the bottles while setting them on the counter. “Just in case we decide to do this again sometime soon.” 

“Yeah, I guess that does make sense.” Zuko agrees, nodding. “What’d you get?” 

“I’m glad you asked!” Sokka picks up one carton, showing it off as if he’s on a gameshow. “I thought we could use some variety, so I got us some Mike’s--” Zuko opens his mouth but Sokka cuts him off. “ _ Not  _ the cherry flavor because I know you don’t like that.” 

“Oh, good.” He chuckles. “It’s nice to know you do actually listen sometimes.” 

“Of  _ course  _ I do, Zuko Dearest.” Sokka says. “In addition to the not-cherry flavored Mike’s, I got some plain old beer  _ and...”  _ He reveals a bottle of clear liquor. “Some coconut vodka!”

“Interesting,” Zuko says. “I don’t think I’ve had that before.” 

“Oh, Zuko, it’s great. Especially this brand.” Sokka replies. “It hurts  _ so  _ much, but it’s worth it.” 

“Good to know. I’ll take it easy on that then.”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” Sokka goes over to pull open one of the drawers, sifting around until he finds a bottle opener. “I think we should break in the night with a Mike’s. The pizza’s already on its way and should arrive hot and ready in about twenty minutes.” Zuko opens his mouth again only to be cut off. “Yes I asked for non-dairy cheese on half so you won’t die of indigestion. You’re welcome.” 

“I appreciate that.” 

“I know you do.” Sokka cracks the cap off a bottle and hands it to Zuko before doing the same to his own. “Cheers to us.” 

Zuko laughs softly. “Cheers.” 

Their glass clinks and they both take a swig; Sokka sighs at the taste of raspberry and lemon on his tongue and leans against the counter, tilting his head back. 

“Oh fuck yeah.” He says. “I haven’t had this stuff in a while; I forgot how much I liked it.” 

“It’s pretty good, actually,” Zuko says, taking another sip. “I don’t usually like fruity alcohol that much, but this isn’t bad.” 

“Call me a middle-aged soccer mom, ‘cause I’m a sucker for fruity drinks.” Sokka says, swishing the lemonade around in his bottle. “My dad makes these strawberry daiquiris at holidays sometimes that I would literally sell my soul for. I think I could sway you to the fruity side with one of those bad boys.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Zuko smiles. “You wanna play something while we wait? I bought that new Japanese horror game everyone’s going crazy about right now.” 

Sokka lights up. “Kuroi Mori?! I was gonna buy that!” He says. “I’ve been too chicken to play it by myself, though, if I’m being honest.” 

“Awesome, this should be fun then.” Zuko tilts his head towards the living room. “Shall we?” 

“We shall.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The night progresses fairly well in Sokka’s opinion. 

By now, he’s finishing off his third drink of the night and he’s pretty tipsy. The pizza had arrived about twenty minutes after its initial ETA, and despite his inclination to whine about how hungry he was getting, he chose to spare Zuko the dramatics.

Sokka knows his intent with this night was to relax enough to talk to Zuko about everything, but he’d honestly forgotten how much fun it was to just hang out one-on-one with him. Zuko would crack a joke and tease Sokka every time he flinched at one of the jump scares in the game. Sokka would push him on the shoulder and flick a mushroom from the pizza at him, only to have Zuko shove him back, laughing as Sokka snickered along with him. 

He then realizes that Zuko’s smile is going to kill him. It’s deathly sweet and makes his heart melt every time he notices it. The gentleness in his expression is something he sees so rarelyー it feels like something precious he needs to savor. 

Sokka feels his mind swim a bit as he looks over at Zuko, noting how cute he finds it when he tucks his hair behind his ear. It’s just so  _ pretty--  _ so shiny and soft-looking and he just wants to run his fingers through it-- 

“Sokka?” 

He blinks, shaking his head a bit. “Hmm?” 

“You were staring at me again.” Zuko says, pausing the game. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Well, I am pretty tipsy.” He replies, shrugging. “And...I dunno. You’re nice to look at.” 

The comment takes Zuko by surprise. “Oh, uh, thanks. I guess.” 

“Zuko! I mean it!” Sokka puts his controller down. “You’re like, really pretty. Like a painting or something, you know? 

Zuko looks at him in near shock, completely unaware of how to take the compliment. “Um. I--”

“What’s that one guy’s name? He made that one sunflower painting.” 

“...Van Gogh?” 

Sokka lights up! “Van Gogh! Yeah, that’s it. You’re like a  _ Van Gogh. _ ”

Zuko has no clue how to respond. He sits there, staring back at Sokka as his blue eyes linger on him. He has to say  _ something.  _ He can’t just—

“I feel like doing a shot.” Sokka blurts out, standing up from the couch. “You wanna do one too? The coconut vodka  _ slaps-- _ ” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Zuko replies quickly. “Just let me use the bathroom first.” 

Sokka waves him off as he walks into the kitchen. Zuko rises to his feet and bolts down the hall to the bathroom, shutting the door tight behind him as if he’s being chased. 

Zuko looks in the mirror, horrified at the bright pink blush across his cheeks. That interaction had solidified his earlier hypothesis. He was  _ not  _ imagining Sokka’s abnormal behavior.

_ ‘It could just be the alcohol.’  _

It’s not a far fetched idea, neither of them acted quite like themselves when they were intoxicated. It would make sense for Sokka to be behaving a little weird; Zuko had once watched this man drink away nearly all his cooking expertise. He’s seen Drunk Sokka in action, but not once had he ever been looked at with those intense bedroom eyes.

Zuko squints at his reflection. 

_ ‘Is he flirting with me?’  _

The thought alone felt wrong. It didn’t seem like a thing that could happen. Sure, Sokka had jokingly flirted with him in the past. Hell, he practically did it on a regular basis. Zuko had already become accustomed to Sokka’s antics, and this  _ wasn’t _ that. There wasn’t a single ounce of reservation in Sokka’s face when he’d looked Zuko up and down earlier. 

None of it made sense. Why would he take an interest in him now, out of nowhere? Had this been going on for longer than he’d thought? Had he just been ridiculously oblivious to Sokka’s advances before? 

Zuko groans as he closes his eyes. He’s slowly creeping past the point of being tipsy, and trying to break down Sokka’s behavior is giving him a headache. He slides his phone out of his jeans and quickly types out a message to Mai, unable to think of anything better to do. 

  
  


**_Zuko: “Mai. I think I’m losing my mind. I feel like Sokka’s flirting with me.”_ **

**_Zuko: “But we’re both tipsy. I can’t tell. He’s acting really weird.”_ **

  
  


His mind is far too jumbled right now to think through any of this clearly on his own. He’d mentioned their ‘guy’s night’ plans to her already, and if anyone could give him a blunt solution, it was Mai. 

Just as he reaches to pull the door open, an electronic chirp in his hand and pulls his attention away. Zuko unlocks it again, surprised to see how quickly Mai had replied. She isn’t the most punctual when it comes to holding a text conversation, and he can only assume that she’s sure of her answer to message back so fast. 

  
  


**_Mai: “Weird how?”_ **

  
  


Zuko thinks for a moment, searching for the right words. 

  
  


**_Zuko: “He just told me I’m pretty.”_ **

**_Zuko: “And he keeps giving me this weird look. I can’t describe it.”_ **

**_Mai: “You’re really painting me a vivid picture.”_ **

  
  


Zuko rolls his eyes. 

  
  


**_Zuko: “I said I was tipsy. I’m sorry if I’m not being articulate enough for you.”_ **

  
  


About a minute passes before Mai replies again. 

  
  


**_Mai: “Flirt back with him.”_ **

  
  


His eyes go wide.

  
  


**_Zuko: “What? Why would I do that?”_ **

**_Mai: “Because, if he’s just joking, it’ll probably spook him if you do it back. If not, then you’ll have your answer.”_ **

  
  


Zuko rubs his temple. This isn’t the solution that he wanted. 

  
  


**_Zuko: “I’ll look like an idiot if he’s not serious.”_ **

**_Mai: “Then play it off and blame it on being drunk. Problem solved.”_ **

  
  


He looks up from his phone, somehow even more stressed than he had been before. What frustrates him the most is that he can see where Mai’s head is at. He doesn’t like the idea at all, but it would give him a clear answer one way or another. 

Zuko sighs irritably as he texts back. 

  
  


**_Zuko: “I swear to God, if this backfires the way I think it will, you’re never going to hear the end of it from me.”_ **

  
  


Mai sends a heart emote and Zuko locks the screen, tucking it back into his pocket before pulling open the bathroom door. 

When he enters the kitchen, he sees Sokka leaning on the counter, carefully pouring vodka into a few shot glasses lined up on the island. 

“I’m gonna do a couple,” Sokka says, twisting the cap back onto the bottle. “I’m off tomorrow and have plenty of time to wallow in a hangover.” 

“I don’t work tomorrow either,” Zuko replies, glancing at the shots. 

“Dude, don’t feel obligated to. I just feel like cuttin’ loose a little more.” He picks up a glass. “But if you do feel like getting plastered with me tonight, then by all means, help yourself.” 

Zuko thinks for a moment. It would be easier to “blame it on being drunk” if he were  _ actually  _ drunk. 

“....Um. Yeah, I think I can do a few.” He reaches over. “Maybe two, I guess.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Sokka says, grinning. “On three. One, two--” 

They take the shots. Zuko cringes at the sting of the vodka running down his throat, relieved only by the wave of coconut flavor lingering in his mouth. Sokka slams his shot glass down and shakes his head, shuddering at the sensation of warmth in his chest. 

“That definitely could’ve been a lot worse.” He says, grabbing another. “I can do this.” 

Zuko nods as he follows Sokka’s lead, downing another with minimal issue. Thankfully, it’s far less jarring the second time. He sets the glass down and coughs a bit, unsuccessfully attempting to clear the rasp from his throat. Sokka follows suit and grins in triumph when he finishes, aggressively pumping a fist in the air. 

“Hell yeah,” He says. “I didn’t go to college for a year and a half for nothing.” 

Zuko snickers. “We must’ve gone for different reasons. School didn’t prepare me for that.” He rubs at his throat. “Fuck, Sokka, I thought you said this vodka was good. My chest is  _ still _ burning.” 

“I said it was ‘good’, I didn’t say it went down smooth.” He replies. “You’re probably gonna have heartburn for another couple minutes or so, but it’ll get the job done. I promise.” 

“It better.” Zuko teases. “Otherwise you owe me a new esophagus.” 

“I’ll see if I can find one the next time I stop by the black market.” Sokka shoulders him. “What else can I get ya? A forearm? What about a kneecap or two? I know a guy.” 

“Shut up.” Zuko nudges him back, smirking at him. “You wanna finish Kuroi Mori?” 

Sokka looks over towards the living room. “Sure, but I’m not gonna lie and tell you that I’ll be the best help when the vodka kicks in.” 

He chuckles. “I’ll take the risk.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Zuko wants to believe that he isn’t enjoying himself while he’s cuddled up against Sokka, but he is. 

He isn’t leaning on the arm of their thrifted leather sofa like he had been when they’d started playing the game together. He’d somehow ended up slumped across the length of it, his head resting precariously on Sokka’s shoulder as he tries to force his drunken brain to focus on the screen. 

Zuko thinks maybe his subconscious is keener on the idea of coming onto Sokka than he is, because he’d apparently had no problem inching further and further across the couch until he was pressed against Sokka’s arm. The thought of doing it sober feels wildly foreign, but with the help of vodka, apparently, he couldn’t care less. 

It’d only taken about half an hour for it to settle in his veins and a wave of dizziness overcomes him every time he tries to sit up straight. Leaning onto Sokka’s side was currently his safest option; Zuko knows that if he attempts to stand up with how disoriented he’s feeling, it’d earn him a one-way ticket straight into the hardwood. 

Sokka didn’t seem to mind at all. He’d looked momentarily surprised when Zuko had first moved over, but it barely phased him as time passed. He adjusted to the new position quickly, fixing his arm so he wouldn’t accidentally elbow Zuko in the chest while they were playing together. 

Sokka’s heart rate skyrockets as the game character’s flashlight fizzles out, his fingers frantically pressing the D-Pad. 

“Oh fuck, fuck-- I’m out of batteries! I’m gonna die--” 

Almost on cue, a shriek erupts from the television and a dark, humanoid figure dashes towards the player, slashing them as the screen goes black and “game over” fades in. Sokka yelps and drops his controller, spewing out a string of curses as Zuko snickers beside him. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” He whines. “This game is hard!” 

“I dunno. I beat this level. It can’t be  _ that  _ hard.” Zuko says, looking up at him. “Maybe it’s just too scary for you.” 

“It is  _ not!”  _ Sokka snaps back, his words slurring. “I’m jus’ too drunk. I can’t focus.”

Zuko smirks. “That’s interesting considering you sucked at this before we did the shots.” 

“Zuko!” 

“What?” 

“Quit being a dick!” 

“I’m not.” He replies, sitting up. “You don’t have to lie to me, Sokka. You can tell me if you’re too scared.” 

Sokka turns to look at him, his eyes narrowed. “Fuck you.” 

“You look mad.” 

“I’m not mad! You’re just bein’ mean!” 

“I can’t be mean every once in a while?” 

“No! Not to me.” Sokka tells him, pouting. “I’m special.” 

Zuko cocks his head. “Special how?” 

“I’ve brought you nothing but joy since I moved in.” 

Zuko laughs. “Is that right?” 

“It absolutely is.” Sokka answers, his expression smug as he leans in. “I've seen you try to cook for yourself. You’d starve without me.” 

“I can make food, Sokka.” 

“Ramen doesn’t count.” 

“Okay, now you’re being mean to  _ me.”  _

Sokka scoffs. “I’m jus’ teasing, Zukes.” 

He laughs through his nose, giving him a knowing look. “Yeah, I thought so.” 

Zuko sits in the falling silence, carefully watching Sokka’s face. He doesn’t know what he’s looking forー maybe that same glimmer of desire he’d seen earlier, or some indication that he isn’t completely losing his mind. Sokka blinks a few times before he raises a brow, confused at the look he’s being given. 

“What?” 

Zuko glances away. “...Nothing.” 

“Why were you lookin’ at me like that?” 

Zuko cocks his head, looking back. 

“I feel like I should be asking you that question.” 

Something in Sokka’s disposition changes. His eyes widen and the faintest blush falls across his cheeks, contrasting the tan skin beneath it. Zuko doesn’t budge an inch, keeping his gaze locked on Sokka as he fidgets uncomfortably.

“So you  _ do _ know what you’re doing.” 

Sokka swallows. ”What exactly would that be?”

Zuko stays silent for what seems like ages, mustering up the courage to say what he’s thinking. 

“...Flirting with me?”

He braces himself. He expects Sokka to fly off the handle or cover his ass with some tired joke, but he doesn’t. He just sits there, staring back at Zuko with slightly parted lips and blue eyes swimming with liquor. 

“...Well,” He finally says. “It could jus’ be the vodka or whatever, but it kinda feels like you’re flirting with me too.” 

Zuko studies his face. “You think so?”

“Mhmm.” Sokka replies, raising a brow. “...Are you?” 

Zuko doesn’t realize how close Sokka's face is to his. Somewhere in the midst of their back and forth they’d moved to be a mere few inches away from one another. 

“...Do you want me to be?” 

Sokka’s eyes flicker over his lips. “Maybe.” 

It doesn’t feel as if either of them initiate it, but that could just be the alcohol impairing their judgment. The next thing Zuko knows, Sokka’s lips are on his, pressing chastely into them like he’s afraid of being too forward. Zuko lets the last of his common sense take a backseat in his mind. He leans into the kiss, taking in the familiar taste of coconut and raspberry as it draws on. 

His sense of time is distorted, but Zuko knows Sokka’s the one to pull away first. Sokka sits back and stares back at him as if he’s in a waking dream, far away from reality. 

“...Fuck.” He says, rubbing at his temple. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Zuko reaches out. “Wait, Sokka—“ 

“God, I’m way too fucking drunk for this.” He goes on. “Why the hell did I do that?” 

_ “Sokka,  _ listen to me—“ 

“Jesus, I’m so sorry, Zuko. I don’t know what came over me—“ 

“Sokka! Would you shut up?!”

He goes silent. Zuko takes a deep breath through his nose, desperately trying to clear his overloaded mind. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He finally says. Sokka nods, and he continues. “Are you...straight?” 

Sokka hesitates. “I, uh, _ well— _ “ 

“Because I thought you were, but I feel like I’ve been going crazy for the past few days.” Zuko cuts in. “I tried to tell myself that maybe I was just overthinking things--”

“Zuko--” 

“But you’ve never  _ looked  _ at me like that before-- like you wanted to pounce on me or something--”

“Okay, now  _ you _ need to shut up so  _ I _ can talk.” 

Zuko closes his mouth, watching Sokka intently as he speaks. 

“...To answer your question, um, no.” He replies, his eyes darting away. “I don’ think I am. But if I’m being honest, this was kind of a recent discovery.” 

“How recent?” 

Sokka’s face twists. “Does it matter?” 

“...No. I guess not.” Zuko answers. “I’m just trying to make sense of all this.” 

“Zuko,  _ I  _ can barely make sense of it.” Sokka lets out an exasperated sigh as he slumps back into the couch. “Figurin’ out your sexuality is really hard.” 

Zuko scoffs. “Yeah, tell me about it.” 

“Havin’ a really hot roommate makes it a lot harder, too, you know.” He points a finger. “You’ve been making my life hell for the past few weeks. You have  _ no  _ right to just--” He gestures at him. “ _ Look  _ like that.” 

_ ‘Past few weeks.’  _ Zuko repeats the thought in his mind. So this  _ had _ been going on longer than he’d first imagined. He can’t pinpoint moments beyond the past week or so that stand out to him. Maybe Sokka just hadn’t been coming on as strong until recently. He doesn’t know, and he won’t figure it out with the vodka flowing through his system. 

A thought bubbles up in Zuko’s mind and he doesn’t shove it away like he’d done every time before. His vigor at staving off the idea had already departed with his last ounce of sobriety. He blinks a few times, piecing together the fragments of thoughts that float around in his head before blurting it all out.

“Sokka?” 

He looks over. “Yeah?” 

“D’you wanna...” Zuko starts. “Kiss again? But like, for money?” 

Sokka’s expression goes wrought with confusion.  _ “What?” _

“I mean, like,” He rubs at his forehead. “Fuck, I’m sorry. The alcohol is really hitting me hard right now.” 

“You don’t say?” 

“Shut  _ up.”  _ Zuko snaps. “I’m just-- I’m trying to tell you that I cam. I’m a camboy--” 

“Oh? Really? Um, wow.” Sokka stumbles along, trying to sound even the least bit surprised. “That’s unexpected.”

“I know it probably seems out of character for me,” Zuko replies. “I’m doing it because I need to save for school-- but the tea shop doesn’t pay enough. Mai told me about it ‘cause she does it too.”

_ “Ohhh,  _ yeah that makes sense.” Sokka’s not lying, knowing that camming hadn’t originally been Zuko’s idea cleared up  _ a lot _ of the initial questions he’d had. “D’you...make a lot doing it?” 

“Honestly? It almost pays better than my day job.” 

“Shit,  _ really?”  _

Zuko nods. “And that’s good, but it would still help to be able to save more.” He looks over. “Mai’s camming with a friend of ours, and she’s making a lot more now—” 

Sokka feels his heart leap into his throat. He feels stupid for not seeing where Zuko was going with this sooner. 

“Holy shit.” He says, gawking in disbelief. “Zuko, are you asking me if--” 

“You wanna cam with me?” He finishes. “‘Cause, uh, yeah. I am. I thought it was a crazy idea at first, but...” Zuko looks him over. “After...all this...”

Sokka sits forward on the sofa, perching his elbows on his knees as his head rests in his hands. “Zuko...I don’t--” 

“Don’t feel obligated to,” He interjects. “I just thought I should ask because I know you’re saving for school too.”

“I told you about Badgley?” 

“Katara did.” Zuko says. “She mentioned it to me once.” 

Sokka casts his eyes downward and closes them shut, parsing through everything he’s just been told. He hadn’t anticipated the night would go exactly as he’d planned, but he definitely hadn’t thought it would end like  _ this.  _

“...Okay, Zuko, listen.” He starts. “I know the answer that Drunk Me wants to give you, but I can’t guarantee that sober me is going to be on board.” 

Zuko remains silent for a moment. “...We probably shouldn’t be having this conversation drunk, should we?”

“No, we shouldn’t.” Sokka sits up. “I think we both need to sober up before doin’ anything else.” 

Zuko nods. “You’re right. I don’t know why I decided to ask now--” 

“It’s called liquid courage for a reason, Zukes.” Sokka says, giving a weak smile. “The fastest way to get rid of it is by sleepin’ it off.” 

“I am kind of tired.” Zuko glances at the small, white numbers on the T.V. “Maybe we should call it a night.” 

“I don’t have any objections to that.” Sokka replies, pulling himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go face plant in my bed and see how long it takes for me to pass out.” 

“Have fun.” Zuko tells him, his gaze following his sneakers as they disappear from view. “Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

He hears the sound of Sokka’s bedroom door opening and shutting and slumps back onto the couch, wrenching his eyes shut in frustration. The thought of having this conversation with no confidence buffer made Zuko’s head hurt. He is growing sleepier, however, and he knows that he’ll have to drag himself to his bedroom eventually and deal with the aftermath of all this.

Zuko inhales sharply, already writing the essay-length message he’s going to send Mai in the morning in his head. 


	8. Chapter 8

The moment Sokka opens his eyes the next morning, he’s met with the sting of sunlight beaming in through the blinds. 

He squeezes them shut, groaning as he holds a hand up to block it out. His head is  _ pounding  _ the second he tries to sit up. Pain throbs against his skull with every movement and he immediately wishes that he’d just turned over instead of trying to get out of bed. 

Once the initial haze of sleep clears from his brain, Sokka blinks himself awake, looking down at himself as he frowns. He’s still wearing what he’d had on last night. He hadn’t even taken the time to take off his shoes, let alone anything else. It’s a bit foggy, but when he concentrates harder, he does remember stumbling into his room the night before. Sokka thinks he must have passed out on his bed a few minutes after closing the door. The position he’d woken up in (flat on his stomach with his feet hanging off the bed frame) is conducive with the idea. 

He turns to step out of bed and is instantly hit with a wave of dull pain in his muscles. It surges with every step but Sokka forces himself to peel off his worn clothes and toss them into the corner of his room. He knows that what he needs before anything else is water. Not only is his mouth unbearably dry, but it tastes faintly of beer and artificial fruit mixed with his own morning breath. The combination isn’t meshing well with the nausea he’s beginning to feel, so he pulls the door open, yawning as he walks down the hall. 

Sokka rounds the corner and into the kitchen, suddenly frozen at the sight of Zuko perched at the island. Zuko looks up from his phone and dons the same petrified expression, staring vacantly back at him for what feels like ages. Sokka wishes he would’ve had the forethought to remember that Zuko was a naturally early riser, he wouldn’t have walked out of his room half naked otherwise. Despite the fact he might have been hungover at some point, he’d probably woken up hours before Sokka. It was almost noon, and any symptoms Zuko had been experiencing had most likely tapered off by now. 

Sokka stands there in silence until Zuko sets down his phone and clears his throat, finally speaking up. 

“Hey.” 

Sokka straightens himself, rubbing the back of his neck. “Morning.” 

Another beat passes, and Zuko glances away. 

“So.” 

“ _ So. _ ..” 

“Um, about last night--” 

“I’m sorry.” Sokka cuts in, taking Zuko by surprise. “I really should’ve had more control over myself. I mean, you know now that I’m figuring all this...sexuality stuff out now, but I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.” 

“Sokka, we were both insanely drunk.” Zuko tells him. “You had about as much clear judgement as I did last night. You didn’t take advantage of me.” 

“...Well, it’s nice to hear you say that, but either way. I still don’t feel great about it.” 

“I get it.” Zuko glances down at the counter top. “I feel the same way about asking you to...” He looks up. “You know.” 

It takes Sokka a minute to remember what Zuko’s referring to. The memory had gotten so buried under the fog of being intoxicated that it didn’t occur to him until now. 

“Oh shit.” He says, wide eyed. “You asked me to cam with you.” 

Zuko frowns. “Yeah, I know, and I shouldn’t have. I was crossing a huge line by even bringing up the idea--” 

“Wait, wait, wait, now hold on.” Sokka interjects, holding up his hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up. He gawks at Sokka in awe, his mouth hanging slightly open. “...You’re actually  _ considering _ it?” 

“I mean...yeah?” He replies, stepping closer. “Why not? Unless you don’t want to anymore.” 

Zuko hesitates. “I didn’t say that.” 

“Alright then. Let’s slow down for a second.” He sits quietly, waiting for Sokka to continue. “I have a few questions.” 

“Okay?” 

Sokka walks over to the island, taking a seat on the empty bar stool. “So, just so I’m sure I understand how this works, you, um, masturbate on camera, right?” 

Zuko nods, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment. “Yeah.” 

“So, if I were gonna do this with you, then would we just...I dunno, masturbate  _ together?  _ Or would it be more than that?” 

“Oh, uh,” Zuko stutters. “I guess that depends on how far you’re willing to go?” 

Sokka stares back at him, wide-eyed. “...How far are  _ you  _ willing to go?” 

He winces. “Don’t ask me that.” 

“You’re an active participant in this, Zuko! Your opinion matters!” 

“Well...I’m willing to go all the way if you are.” He says. “It would probably be the most lucrative, if I’m being honest.” 

Sokka lets the statement register in his brain. Zuko just admitted that he’s open to having full blown sex with him, on camera at that. He’d be able to touch him, feel the defined muscles he’d been staring endlessly at, run his hands through that soft, silky black hair. Sokka has to still his mind before his thoughts wander too far. He is sitting there in his boxers, after all.

“I’m down.” He says confidently. “Yeah, fuck it. I’m totally down. Let’s do it.” 

Zuko looks shocked, almost as if he’s still processing that the conversation is going so well. “You’re serious?” 

“One hundred percent.” Sokka replies. “You were right last night. I really could use the extra money. Anything that can fast track me out of that god forsaken warehouse is completely worth it to me.” 

Zuko’s face still looks stunned, but he manages to nod in agreement. “Um wow, okay. Alright then. Let’s do it.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Sokka says, grinning widely back at him. “So, when’s the next stream? I think I can hype myself up by then.” 

Zuko scoffs, waving his hand. “Slow down a little, I think we should practice off camera first.” 

Sokka furrows his brows. “ _ Practice? _ Zuko, I know how to have sex.” 

“Sure, but not with me.” The statement comes off more suggestive than Zuko intends, and he clears his throat at the look Sokka gives him in response. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m saying is that we don’t really know how we each are in bed yet. I feel like we should try and get comfortable with one other before we leap into doing stuff on camera. Just so it’s not awkward.” 

Sokka nods, drumming his fingers on the granite. “I got it, that makes sense.” He says. “So, when do you wanna ‘practice’, I guess?” 

“Um, I know it’s kind of soon, but I’m free tomorrow night.” Zuko replies. “My uncle gave me a closing shift, but I can try and get things done a little bit faster than normal so I’ll be back up here not too long after.” 

Sokka feels his heart beat faster. “Oh, uh, yeah! I think I can do that. I get off at seven.” 

Zuko nods. “That sounds good to me.” 

“Awesome. Great. Cool.” Sokka rises from the bar stool, making his way back over to the entryway. “I really need to go brush the vodka and pizza breath out of my mouth, but I’ll probably be around most of the day if you wanna talk more.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.” 

Sokka gives him an affirmative nod. “Later.” 

“See you.” 

He walks out into the hall, rapidly picking up speed once he’s out of earshot. Sokka closes the bathroom door shut behind him and whips his head around to the mirror, groaning at the peach flush adorning his cheeks. Had he been blushing like this the entire time? He prays to God that he hadn’t been, Zuko probably knows already that he’s nervous as all hell about everything. 

Sokka turns the cold water and splashes a bit on his face, hoping that it’ll help him relax a bit. He looks up and stares back at himself, wiping a now wet strand of hair out of his eyes. 

He and Zuko were going to cam together. 

Him and one of his closest friends, were going to have  _ sex  _ eventually. 

The flush doesn’t go away, and Sokka lays his head on the sink. He needs to get himself together before tomorrow night so Zuko doesn’t think he’s a complete anxious wreck about everything.

* * *

  
  


Zuko’s nerves are buzzing under his skin when he unlocks the front door that night. 

He secretly wishes he’d decided to do this with Sokka the day before. They were both off, pretty much had nothing to do, and spent it mulling around the apartment until Sokka ultimately left that evening to hang out with the gang. Zuko hadn’t considered that he’d have to spend his eight-hour shift at work trying to focus on making drinks with the knowledge that he’d be messing around with one of his best friends after he got off. His uneasiness was  _ very  _ apparent to his coworkers, and he had to assure Teo and Toph several times that he was fine, just a little hyped up on caffeine. They were skeptical, but ended up leaving him alone eventually.

The lights in the living room are off when Zuko walks in. He takes off his apron and hangs it on the hook by the door, glancing down the hall to see Sokka’s bedroom door cracked open. His footsteps feel like lead as he tries to get himself together, slowly approaching the white glow leaking out from Sokka’s room. 

Zuko’s fingers wrap around the door frame as he pokes his head in.

“Hey.” 

Sokka jumps. He’s lying on his back with his phone held high above his head and drops it on his face the moment he hears Zuko’s voice. 

“Shit, ow.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Sokka sits up. “No, no, you’re fine. I just didn’t hear you come in.” He clears his throat. “So, um, did you wanna...like, now?” 

Zuko shakes his head. “Uh, I mean, I wanted to change and whatnot first, but that won’t take me long.” 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, that’s fine!” Sokka replies. “Take as much time as you need, I can hang tight.” 

“Cool,” Zuko says. “So, I guess...come by my room in like? Twenty minutes?” 

Sokka nods. “Yeah, that works for me.” 

“Awesome.” Zuko runs a hand over his hair. “Alright then. See you soon.” 

_ ‘See you soon?’  _ Sokka thinks, watching as he walks away.  _ ‘God, he’s nervous as hell.’  _

It wasn’t as if Sokka wasn’t nervous too. Hell, he’d sat around all day watching anything he could to get his mind off of what was to come tonight. Zuko is clearly anxious however, and if anything, it brought Sokka peace of mind. This was probably-- no,  _ definitely  _ going to be awkward and nerve-wracking for both of them at first, but at least neither of them were alone in the way they were feeling. 

Sokka checks his phone at least nine times before twenty minutes finally pass. He waits an extra minute or so before he gets up from his bed, just so he doesn’t seem  _ too  _ eager. 

The walk to Zuko’s room can’t be more than a couple of feet, but it feels miles away as Sokka heads toward it, gently knocking on his door before taking a step back. It swings open almost immediately and Zuko stands there, clad in an old grey band tee and dark red boxer briefs. Sokka shouldn’t be caught off guard by that; they were literally  _ about  _ to fool around. Why is seeing Zuko in his underwear making his heart pound so hard? 

“Hey.” He blurts out, trying not to glance too much between Zuko’s face and his lower half. “So, you ready?” 

_ ‘As ready as I can be.’  _ Zuko thinks. 

“Yeah, come in.” 

He steps out of the way and lets Sokka walk into his room. It’s not lit the way Sokka’s used seeing on the rare occasions that Zuko left his door open. All his lamps are turned off except for one. The white bulb had been swapped out for an ambient red one, which Sokka vaguely remembers seeing in Zuko’s stream. His room looks neater than it normally is too. Sokka figures that he must’ve put away the stray piles of clothing around his room out of courtesy. It’s funny to think about. Zuko’s trying to be a good host, and that fact alone is adorable. 

“So.” Zuko closes the door behind them. “Uh, what did you...wanna  _ do  _ tonight, exactly?” 

Sokka raises his brows. “Oh, I mean. I figured I would leave that up to you.” He says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You  _ are _ more experienced than me in this whole, y’know,” He twirls his wrist. “Sleeping with dudes department.” 

“...Have you ever done anything with a guy””

“Nope! Not at all.” Sokka grins cheesily. “I am your humble student.” 

Zuko snorts. “God, don’t say that.” 

“Why not? It’s true.” Sokka says, bowing. “You can completely take the reins tonight. I’m at your beck and call.” 

Zuko purses his lips, his brows knit as if he’s thinking. “Um...I guess that’s fine.” 

“You sure?” Sokka asks. “You hesitated.” 

He blinks. “Well, in all honesty,”

Zuko’s dragging out his words and Sokka tries to nudge him towards a straight answer. 

“ _ Yeah?”  _

“I’m kind of...submissive? I don’t usually, um, take control with this type of thing.” 

Sokka feels like he’s just gotten a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.  _ Zuko  _ is submissive in bed. Zuko, well known as hot-headed, stubborn, temperamental, essentially just admitted to being a pillow prince. 

Sokka feels like he might die of heat exhaustion. 

“ _ Oh,”  _ He says, his brows raised. “Well, uh. Okay then. I can try my best, but you might have to help me out here and there.” 

“I can do that.” Zuko replies. “It’s not a problem.” 

“Cool, cool.” Sokka’s eyes scan his body. “So...are you gonna come sit on the bed or just stand over there the entire time?” 

Somehow, he can still tell Zuko’s blushing, even in the red lighting. 

“Oh, yeah.” 

Zuko hesitantly walks over, taking a seat a foot or two away from him. Sokka rolls his eyes and reaches over to grab his hand, gently tugging him in his direction. 

“Zuko, come on.” He says. “Come over here.” 

He realizes he probably shouldn’t draw this out unnecessarily. Zuko swallows and scoots closer to Sokka, his bare thigh pressing flush against his. 

Zuko’s shaking. Sokka can feel it against his leg and he decides to help them both out, reaching up to gently turn his chin towards him. Silently, Sokka leans in, pressing his lips against Zuko’s. He can feel the heat radiating off of him and strokes his thumb across his cheek, trying his best to help Zuko calm down a bit. 

The first attempt is incredibly clunky. The adrenaline they’d both felt having alcohol coursing through their veins the first time they’d kissed had long worn off. Sokka’s trying to be somewhere between chaste and passionate, but Zuko’s so rigid it feels like he’s kissing a wall. He pulls back after a few seconds, looking carefully at the other’s face as he considers what to say.

“Can you relax a little bit for me?” Sokka asks tenderly. “You’re really stiff. I need to know you're comfortable with this.” 

“I-- I am.” Zuko stutters. “It’s just,  _ fuck _ , I’m really nervous, Sokka. I know I shouldn’t be because I’m the one who  _ asked _ you to do this but I just—I’m really—“

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I’m nervous too, don’t worry.” He says back. “I’m just obscenely good at putting on a front.” 

Zuko smiles softly at that, mildly reassured. “Good to know.” 

“Mhmm.” Sokka's eyes soften as he looks him up and down. “You wanna...um, sit on my lap maybe?” 

Zuko chokes. “ _ Uh-- _ ” 

“If you’re okay with that, I mean. The angle might be a little less awkward.”

He thinks for a moment before he shifts back onto his knees and swings one leg over Sokka’s. He places his hands on his shoulders as he settles into his lap, taking in a slow breath. 

“I'm okay with this, I promise.” 

Sokka smirks, reaching around to hold his waist. “Great, that’s progress right there.” 

Zuko laughs through his nose as Sokka guides him into another kiss, this time a touch more assertively. After a few seconds, Zuko  _ finally  _ loosens up. Sokka feels his jaw unclench and strokes his back, attempting to coax him out of his shell. Zuko’s lips are soft and taste faintly of mint; he’d probably been worried that his lips would be chapped prior to everything and slathered on a layer of chapstick. It’s not intrusive at all, however. Sokka settles into the flavor as he gently brushes his tongue across Zuko’s lower lip, silently asking for entrance. 

Zuko’s lips part just enough. Sokka tilts his head to the side and slips his hands under Zuko’s shirt, rubbing the prickling skin as his tongue slips into his mouth. Sokka can hear the faintest moan and he already knows the noises Zuko makes are going to be the death of him. 

The more intense things get, the more Zuko seems to relax. His hands slide up from Sokka’s shoulders and cup his jaw, holding his head in place as he kisses back. The way their lips move against one another makes their heads swim and the intensity comes in slow, sensual waves. Just as Zuko feels himself breaching the surface, Sokka's tongue glides along his, capturing his mouth before pressing in again _.  _

Zuko doesn’t even realize when his hormones start to take over. He takes his hands off Sokka’s cheeks and presses them against his chest, shoving him down into the mattress with a force that catches Sokka off guard. 

_ “Whoa.”  _

Zuko freezes. “Fuck, was that okay? I didn’t even ask—“ 

“It was really hot.” Sokka grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “Come here.” 

He’s yanked down flush against Sokka’s chest, only given a second to register the change before Sokka’s mouth is on his again. A few strands of hair slip loose from Zuko’s ponytail from the gracelessness of it all. Sokka takes it upon himself to pull Zuko closer and tilt his chin up so he can slip his tongue further into his mouth, testing the waters to see whether or not Zuko liked being kissed so aggressively. He captures his mouth completely, gliding his tongue along every crevice of Zuko’s mouth and reveling in the sloppiness of it all. 

The barely audible moan Sokka gets in response is answer enough. He lets go of Zuko’s face and lets his hands wander down, resting them on his splayed hips as they straddle his waist. Sokka can feel Zuko’s growing erection pressing against his inner thigh and occasionally as it brushes against his own. The friction is fleeting but sends a familiar prickling sensation through his groin that begs to be sought out again. Sokka does just that, gripping firmly onto Zuko as he rolls his hips upwards, grinding their clothed erections together. 

Zuko’s lips part from the kiss as a gasp shakily spills out of him. Sokka watches intently as he catches his breath, holding him down as he rocks up again. Zuko buckles forward and covers his mouth as Sokka repeats the motion, grinding upward over and  _ over.  _

“How’s that feel _? _ ” He asks, reaching to tilt Zuko’s head up. “Huh?” 

“G-good.” Zuko says, short of breath. “Really good.” 

He shudders and rolls his hips again needily, his hands slipping down to wander around Sokka’s waist. He can feel the bulge of Sokka’s erection pressing against his and the heat it sends through his body is driving him  _ insane.  _

“Take these off.” 

Sokka pauses. “Hmm?” 

“Pants.” Zuko says curtly, already tugging at his waistband. “Off, now.”

Sokka raises a brow and shifts beneath him, raising up so he can pull his sweatpants over his hips. “I thought I was supposed to be the one in control here.” 

“And I’m helping you. ” Zuko replies. “Just like you asked me to.” 

Sokka can’t argue with that. He lifts his legs as Zuko continues pulling his pants down, struggling a bit to get them over his ankles before tossing them to the floor. Zuko takes a second to pull his t-shirt over his head, exposing the expanse of his chest for Sokka to see. 

“Wow.” He says, looking on in awe. “You’re in really good shape.” 

Sokka was a little caught off guard. Zuko didn’t exactly walk around their apartment shirtless like he did sometimes. Any of the moments Sokka had caught a glimpse of Zuko’s torso, it was always short lived; never long enough for him to drink it in like he can now. 

Zuko looks away, chuckling nervously. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” Sokka replies, smiling. 

Zuko sits still on top of him for a moment, his fingertips trailing over the elastic of Sokka’s boxers. They circle the jut of his hip bones, briefly staying in place before hooking underneath the waistband.

“Can I?” 

Sokka nods eagerly, watching as Zuko hastily yanks them over his pelvis. His erection springs free from its confines and Zuko’s eyes widen for a split second before he catches himself. They flick up at Sokka and his face sinks into a glare, not at all amused by the shit-eating smirk on his face. 

“Shut up.”

His smirk widens. “You like what you see, huh?” 

Zuko glowers. “Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“I won’t, I won’t.” He pauses. “Well, maybe just a  _ little.”  _

Zuko rolls his eyes so far back he swears he can see his brain. 

He returns to the task at hand. Hesitantly, his fingers wrap around Sokka’s shaft and take hold, experimentally stroking up towards the head a few times. Sokka feels nearly every ounce of tension leave his body. He hasn’t had anyone touch him like this in  _ ages  _ and seeing his cock throb in Zuko’s grip makes a faint wave of pleasure flow through his body. Sokka relaxes into the bed, sighing breathily as Zuko touches him. 

“Good?”

He lets out a faint noise of approval. “Mm, very.” 

Zuko nods, but he knows he can probably do better. 

“Sokka?”

Sokka looks down. “Yeah?” 

“Can I blow you?” 

The question catches him off guard. His eyes go wide like a deer caught in headlights and stares blankly back at Zuko, his mouth stuttering open and closed as his brain fails to think of a response. 

“Or not?” 

“No! No, you can! Definitely! I’d  _ love  _ it if you did--” Sokka cuts himself off. “I mean-- I really enjoy getting head, so--” 

“Most people do.” 

“Zuko shut up.” He snaps. “You know what I mean.” 

Zuko looks at him with a coy smirk before letting go of Sokka’s cock, leaning away for a moment. He gets a confused look in response but it fades when Sokka sees what Zuko’s fished out of his night stand drawer. 

“I think we should use one of these. ” He says holding up the foil wrapped condom. “For now, at least. You know, since we haven’t been tested for stuff recently? I’m assuming.” 

Sokka blinks. “Oh, yeah, um—“ 

“Don’t take that personally, I’m just—“ 

“No, no, no, you’re fine, dude. I totally get it,” He assured him. “And you’re right, we should both do that. Just so we can be sure” 

Zuko looks relieved. “Great. Thanks for being cool about it.” 

“Zuko, it would be really shitty of me _not_ to be cool about it.” 

“...Yeah, I guess it would be.” He admits, tearing open the condom. “I still appreciate it though.” 

“Of course, dude.” 

Sokka glances down at Zuko’s hands as he slips it on. A faint, fruity aroma wafts through his nose and he cocks his head, glancing back up. 

“Is that scented or something?” 

“Flavored.” Zuko replies, grimacing at the look Sokka gives him. “What?” 

“Nothing, nothing.” He raises his hands. “It's just, not everyone just  _ has  _ flavored condoms on hand. I’ve never used one.” 

“I mean, I--” Zuko stops, narrowing his eyes. He looks as if he’s evaluating whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say.

“What?” 

“It’s nothing. I just, I use them when I--” He sighs irritably, frustrated with himself. “Okay, so, sometimes I get requests to blow a toy on camera or whatever-- and the rubber usually tastes  _ awful  _ so I just--” 

Zuko stops when he sees Sokka snickering beneath him, his hand over his mouth as he tries to suppress his laughs. 

“Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry! It’s just kinda funny!” Sokka replies. “I mean, we’re literally messing around with each other as we speak and you seem like you’re really embarrassed to tell me that some guys like watching you suck on a dildo or whatever. It’s fine, dude.” 

The tension in Zuko’s face lessens. He shrinks back, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. 

“Of course I’m embarrassed. Only two people know I even do this shit.” He says. “Talking about it with someone else besides them just feels kind of...weird.” 

“That’s perfectly understandable.” Sokka says. “But just know I’m not here to judge you, Zuko. I’m literally gonna put my dick in you eventually.” He pauses. “....I  _ assume?”  _

Zuko blinks. “Oh, uh, yes? That’s the impression I was under.” He clears his throat. “I mean, unless you don’t wanna top--” 

“No, no, no!” The words tumble out of Sokka’s mouth. “I do! I’m way more used to doing that. It’ll be way easier.” 

Zuko chuckles. “Yeah, I kind of assumed so.” 

“...You don’t know that. Maybe my ex was into pegging.”

“Was she?” 

Sokka hesitates. “She asked me once, but the strap-on she wanted to get was so huge I chickened out.” 

Zuko stares intensely back at him before bursting out into laughter. 

“Zuko! Stop!” Sokka whines, shoving him. “It’s not funny!” 

“It’s  _ really  _ funny.” He manages between laughs. “Jesus, how big was it?” 

“...Think of my dick, but even  _ more  _ impressive.”

“ _Shut_ _up.”_

__ Zuko playfully shoves him back, slowly inching back down to return to the task at hand. It only then occurs to Sokka that he’d definitely lost most of his erection somewhere in the middle of all that back and forth, and he looks nervously down at Zuko, an apologetic smile on his face. 

“Sorry--” 

“It’s fine.” Zuko interrupts, smirking lightly as he takes Sokka’s semi in his hand. “Just give me a minute.” 

_ ‘Wow.’  _ He raises his brows, surprised.  _ ‘That was pretty confident of him-- _ **_oh shi-’_ **

Sokka seizes when Zuko wraps his lips around the head, slowly pumping the base with his hand as he sinks down. 

“Oh fuck--” Sokka closes his eyes. “ _ Shit _ .” 

Zuko was right, it barely takes a minute for him to get hard again. Sokka lets his head fall back against the pillow, fully allowing himself to get lost in the sensation of Zuko’s hot, wet tongue against the length of his cock. 

Zuko’s very calculated in the way he gives head and  _ clearly  _ knows what he’s doing. It’s almost hard for Sokka to believe; he’s never exactly pictured Zuko sucking dick. Well, maybe once or twice in more recent times, but regardless. The feeling of his tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock while the insatiable wet warmth of his mouth makes Sokka grip at the sheets so tightly his knuckles go white. To say the least, he’s a bit shocked to see Zuko bobbing up and down on his cock like it’s nothing. 

The heat of his mouth feels  _ insanely  _ good and the wet, vulgar noises of Zuko sucking sloppily at his cock are hypnotizing. Sokka groans when Zuko hollows his cheeks and sucks hard at the head before popping off, lapping at the underside of his cock and teasing his tongue along the bead of precum pooling in the tip of the condom. 

“Holy shit.” Sokka glances down at him. “Jesus fucking Christ— you’re so good at this.” 

Zuko’s eyes cut up at him. Sokka sees the smallest smirk before he takes the head of his cock fully into his mouth again, removing his hand from the base as Zuko’s head travels lower and lower. When Sokka feels himself hit the back of Zuko’s throat, he jolts, gripping onto the comforter for dear life. 

_ “Fuck!”  _

He involuntarily bucks his hips up into the sensation. Zuko flinches and gags, pulling off as he coughs violently. 

“Oh shit.” Sokka sits up onto his elbows, releasing his grip on Zuko’s hair. “I’m sorry-- that was an accident.” 

“It’s okay,” Zuko replies. “I can handle it, I just need you to tell me first. Warn me next time if you feel it coming on. ” 

Sokka looks at him in awe. “Um, yeah, so, what other hidden talents do you have that I don’t know about? Because honestly I’d love to know.” 

Zuko scoffs. “Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?”

Before Sokka can even reply, his mouth is on him again, taking him in to the base as he finds a steady rhythm. 

Sokka doesn’t look away this time, his breath growing ragged as his eyes fixate on Zuko’s actions. Watching Zuko do this makes him feel like he’s in some sort of trance. His hair slips from his messy ponytail and frames his face, occasionally getting in his eyes. Sokka slowly reaches down to give him a hand, carding his hand through the loose strands as he pushes them back out of his face. Zuko looks up at him, locking eyes as he slows his pace, savoring the enamored expression that washes over Sokka’s face. 

Zuko looks fucking gorgeous, and Sokka never thought he’d say that about someone while they were giving him head. His pupils are blown wide and hide all but a sliver of gold around his iris. His lids are low and he stares up through thick lashes, nearly driving Sokka insane with how lewd the display is. 

“Fuck.” He says, smirking weakly. “You look so pretty with a cock in your mouth.” 

The compliment ignites something deep in Zuko’s mind. He closes his eyes and moans, sending a light vibration over Sokka’s cock. He ditches the slow, agonizing pace and picks up a near ungodly rhythm, catching Sokka entirely by surprise as he swallows him to the base on nearly every movement. 

“Oh my  _ God—“  _ He tosses his head back, now gripping tight at Zuko's hair. “Holy fuck—shit.  _ Shit—  _ I’m gonna come— I’m gonna—“

His orgasm hits him like a brick to the face. Sokka groans from the back of his throat, spasming as pump after pump of cum spills into the condom. Zuko only pulls off when he doesn’t feel Sokka's cock pulsing in his mouth anymore, letting slip free from his lips as he wipes the saliva from his chin. 

“... _ Zuko.”  _ Sokka looks down at him, his expression absolutely wrecked. “I— I do not have the words to describe how hard I just came.” 

He smirks, glancing at the condom. “Yeah, I can tell.” 

“I just, Jesus  _ Christ.”  _ Sokka says breathlessly. _ “ _ How the fuck did you get so good at giving head? I feel like I could pass out.” 

Zuko shrugs, barely hiding his cockiness in his expression. “I don’t know. Practice, I guess.” 

“Yeah, well. It really fucking paid off.” Sokka pulls himself upright, slowly discarding the condom in the beside bin. “I’m gonna be thinking about that shit for the next week.” 

“I appreciate the compliment.” He replies, scooting himself up on Sokka’s lap. “So, did you wanna keep going, or?” 

“Are you kidding? You just gave me one of the best blowjobs I’ve ever had in my life.” Sokka says eagerly. “The least I can do is try and return the favor.”

Sokka flips them over, catching Zuko by surprise as he presses him into the mattress. He leans over Zuko, watching him inhale sharply as he moves to free him from his boxers. Sokka eyes the bottle of lube on the night stand and reaches for it, spreading a glob onto his palm before taking hold of Zuko again. He flinches at the initial coldness of it, but Sokka’s hand slowly stroking at his cock is quick to wash away the discomfort.

“Help me out here.” He says, watching carefully as the flush returns to Zuko’s cheeks. “What do you want me to do?” 

His eyes cut away. He’s not used to this. Nobody he’s ever been with has really  _ asked  _ him what he wanted. They’d normally just go for it and check in later. It was rare that he didn’t enjoy whatever it was, but still. Having to actually  _ vocalize  _ what he wanted was new, and Zuko’s not sure he can actually get the words out. 

“Um.” He swallows. “That’s good.” 

“I’m just holding your dick.” 

“I mean-- just, stroke it kind of hard?” 

Sokka raises a brow and gives him a few experimental pumps. “Like that?” 

Zuko grunts softly. “Faster.” 

He does as he’s told, speeding up the pace of his wrist. It draws out a much stronger reaction this time; Zuko sighs breathily and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the pillow. Sokka takes a breath of relief and pays close attention to Zuko’s face. He can already sense that getting him to actually ask for things is going to require a bit of persistence. 

“What else?” Sokka breathes, leaning closer into his ear. “You gotta talk to me, Zuko. Come on. Tell me what it is you want.” 

Zuko mumbles something into his shoulder and Sokka pulls back, listening intently. 

“What’d you say?” 

“Kiss my neck.” He sounds as if he’s fighting to get the words out. “You can, um-- bite. A little. If you want.” 

“Do  _ you  _ want me to?” 

“....Yeah.” 

“Okay then,” Sokka smirks. “I can do that.” 

Zuko resists the urge to roll his eyes as Sokka presses his face into the crook of his shoulder. The heat of his breath ghosting along his skin makes Zuko inhale sharply, tensing a bit as Sokka returns to jerking his cock. 

He presses a gentle kiss to his jaw first, then right below his ear, then lower along his neck. Zuko inhales at the contact, takes a deep breath as Sokka leaves a soft trail down to his collarbone. It feels good just to be touched again if Zuko’s being honest. However, the more time Sokka spends pecking at his neck and taking his sweet time, the antsier Zuko feels himself growing. 

“Stop teasing.” He groans.

Sokka chuckles and momentarily leans back. “Oh Zuko, you’re gonna hate me if you don’t like teasing.” He says. “It's like my favorite thing to do.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” He replies. “I just get kind of impatient.” 

“Well maybe that’s something we need to work on, hmm?”

Zuko sees the sultry look reappear in Sokka’s eyes that he’d seen not long ago. He’s not sure what to say at first; Sokka being unironically flirtatious with him is something he’s still getting used to. 

Sokka takes advantage of his silence and lowers his head back into his neck, this time pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss to dip where Zuko’s collarbone meets his shoulder. The hand around Zuko’s cock picks up at a menacing pace, drawing a wavering moan out of his throat like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him. Sokka sucks at his skin, enjoying the little gasp he gets in response when he gently bites down. His free hand slithers up to take hold of Zuko’s hair, guiding his head to the side as he’s given more access to his neck. 

The feeling of Sokka being so close--the electricity that runs through him every time his teeth graze his neck,  _ God,  _ it’s good. It gives Zuko a heady, weightless feeling that he hasn’t felt in over a year. A wave of heat washes through his body when Sokka bites down particularly hard, sucking what Zuko already knows is going to be a bruise into the side of his neck. 

That high is so  _ close,  _ he can feel it in his fingertips but it’s just barely out of reach. Zuko  _ knows  _ what he wants, but mustering the courage to let it leave his mouth is a feat in and of itself.

“Sokka--” 

He slows. “Yeah?” 

Zuko swallows, hesitant as he speaks. 

“Can you talk to me?” 

“Talk to you? How?” 

Zuko groans. “Do I really have to spell it out?” 

“Zuko, I can’t read your mind. You’re gonna have to use your words.” 

“Dirty talk. Just-- I don’t know. Something.” 

“What kind of dirty talk?” 

_ “Sokka.” _

“What? Seriously! That could mean a lot of things.” He says. “You’ve gotta be more specific.” 

Zuko feels like he wants to throw something. “Like you did earlier, when I was blowing you.” 

It takes Sokka a second to realize what he’s referring to. “When I said you were doing good? You want me to say shit like that to you?” 

“Something along those lines.” Zuko looks towards the wall, refusing to make eye contact. “...Please.” 

Sokka feels a deep burn in his chest.  _ ‘Fuck, did he really just say ‘please’?’  _

“Well, how can I say no when you asked so nicely?” 

Zuko glances back over at him, glaring so intensely that Sokka can’t help the cocky grin that spreads across his face. 

“Fuck you.” 

“Maybe not tonight, but soon, Zuko dearest.” 

Sokka leans down to kiss his lips before he can utter out another snarky reply, pressing his tongue deep into Zuko’s mouth as a means of shutting him up. It’s overwhelming; there’s an underlying hunger in Sokka’s actions that wasn’t there before. Sokka’s fingers grip tightly at his hair again and his other hand begins pumping his cock so rapidly Zuko almost wants to cry. 

He doesn’t  _ love  _ being vulnerable like this, but it’s far out of his control by this point. Sokka pulls back from his lips, sweat beading on his forehead as he looks down with lust-filled eyes.

“God, you’re really hot, Zuko.” He breathes. “You look so good on your back like this.” 

He can hear Zuko's breath stutter as he clamps his hand over his mouth, fruitlessly attempting to smother the moan that threatens to escape. 

“Uh-uh,” Sokka reaches to pry it free. “I wanna hear you.” 

When Zuko said he liked being praised he wasn’t kidding. The difference in his reactions is mind blowing. Zuko hasn’t exactly been quiet throughout everything, but he definitely hasn’t been like  _ this.  _

Sokka pins Zuko’s hand above his head and hovers closer, flicking his wrist as each stroke of his cock grows increasingly tighter. Zuko whines uncontrollably loud, his voice cracking as he wrenches his eyes shut. 

“ _ That’s  _ it.” Sokka leans in, pressing a kiss to the crook of his neck. “God, you sound fucking  _ incredible.”  _

_ “Sokkaaa.”  _

“Hmm?” 

“ _ Please.”  _ Zuko whimpers. “I just wanna-- I’m so fucking close--” 

“Then come,  _ baby _ .” Sokka moves his hand at a pace that has Zuko trembling. “You can do it, come on—” 

“Fuck, shit,  _ fuck!” _

The noise that leaves Zuko’s mouth is the single most desperate noise Sokka’s ever heard out of him; it lives somewhere between a moan and a full-out sob. Every muscle in Zuko’s abdomen goes taut and he arches off the mattress, hot spurts of cum splattering against his chest and dripping down Sokka’s knuckles. 

His wrist comes to a halt as Zuko relaxes and Sokka looks over him in near shock. His face is completely flushed pink and he looks exhausted, his eyes half lidded and threatening to pull him into a deep sleep. Zuko turns his head to meet his gaze, steadying his breath as he comes down from his high. 

“What?” 

Sokka stays silent for a moment. “Okay, listen, not to toot my own horn, but I’ve slept with what I would say is a decent amount of people--” 

“And?” 

“ _ And _ ...I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so hot when they come before, like,  _ ever _ .” 

Zuko looks bewildered. “...Really?” 

“Hands down.” Sokka affirms, reaching over to grab a tissue front he nightstand. “Like,  _ Jesus  _ Zuko. No wonder you cam. I’d pay money to see you like that too.” 

Zuko’s blank stare dissolves into a weak laugh, his eyes wandering away from Sokka’s. “Thanks. That’s, um, nice of you to say.” 

“Of course, dude.” Sokka rolls off him, flopping down onto his back with a pleased sigh. “That was pretty productive, if I do say so myself.” 

Zuko laughs quietly. “You think so?” 

“Definitely. I think we know a lot about each other now.” Sokka holds up a hand, counting. “I like it when you deepthroat, you like being praised, I really like hearing you moan, you like it when I--” 

“Use pet names.” Zuko finishes, not looking away from the ceiling when Sokka cuts him a glance. “I mean, you probably already realized that, but--” 

“Pet names?” He asks. “Like when I called you ‘baby’?” 

Zuko doesn’t verbally reply; he fidgets and turns his head away, nodding instead. 

“Oh my  _ God.”  _

“You are not about to give me shit for that--” 

“No, Zuko, believe me. I’m not judging you, it’s just--” 

“Just what?” 

“Just...kinda hot?” 

“You honestly think that?” Zuko asks.

“Uh, yeah. I do.” Sokka replies, smiling. “Knowing one little word can get you riled up like that? That’s fucking  _ amazing _ .” 

Zuko blushes. Sokka has such a nice smile. He can tell that he’s being genuine, and it does help to alleviate some of the embarrassment. 

“Thanks, I guess.” He says, smirking softly. “I think this went well.” 

“I whole-heartedly agree.” Sokka turns onto his side. “So, when’s round two? I’m pretty excited for it, if I’m being honest.” 

Zuko looks out at the ceiling. “My uncle hasn’t posted the new schedule yet, but I’ll know when he does if that’s okay?”

“That works for me.” 

“Cool.” 

Neither of them are quite sure what to do with themselves after the silence settles. The situation felt like it would normally call for some sort of post-coital cuddling, but it seems out of place for what was supposed to be a practice round and nothing else. 

Sokka eventually clears his throat after lying there for a minute or so, sitting up from the bed. 

“I uh, think I’m gonna go take shower.” He says, collecting his discarded clothes from the floor. “I feel pretty sticky and gross from everything.” 

Zuko sits up. His expression flickers a hint of disappointment before he hides it away. “Sure, I might shower too.” He pauses. “After you! I might shower after you.” 

Sokka chuckles as he pulls the door open. “Nice save.” 

“Thanks.” Zuko lays back down, folding his arms behind his head. “Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

The door closes and Zuko looks up at it briefly before resting it back against the pillow. There were a million things going through his mind right now. Sokka was right, it  _ had  _ been a productive night. Zuko hadn’t necessarily gone into this with the most confidence. He was worried that tonight would be so painfully awkward that they’d have to stop midway through and throw their plans in the garbage. This had gone  _ far  _ better than he’d ever imagined though, and they had barely dipped their toes in with what waited down the line. 

The thought of Sokka touching him like that again gives Zuko a fluttering sensation in his chest. It’d been over a year since he’d been that close to anyone. The way Sokka had been so patient with him, so willing to listen and make sure he was comfortable and enjoying everything, it’s reassuring to say the least. Zuko holds onto the thought as he turns over onto his side and slips himself under the covers, reaching to turn out the light before falling into a deep sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope i brought the heat yall wanted lmao. Thnx for the lovely feedback per usual <3


	9. Chapter 9

“C’mon, Zuko. Just try it.” 

He looks over his shoulder, his hand stilling from wiping the counters. “No.”

Toph whines and leans back against the exposed brick wall. “Zukoooo, quit being such a baby! I promise it’s nothing weird this time.” 

“That’s what you told me the last time you tried this.” He replies, dragging his rag over a few drops of spilled tea. “Forgive me if I don’t really trust you all that much.” 

“Okay, okay, that’s fair.” Toph holds a drink out in front of her. “But this is actually really good. I was just messing around with the seasonal flavors we got in and I think I stumbled on something genius.” 

Zuko looks highly unconvinced. He’s far too traumatized from when Toph fed him an “Iced Almond Milk Tea” that had nearly half of a bacon and egg soufflé secretly blended into it. 

“You drink it first.” 

“I’d be _happy_ to.” Toph lifts the cup and sips at the straw, reacting with a loud, melodramatic sigh of pleasure. “Ahh, yes. Just like I said before; _Delicious.”_

Zuko narrows his eyes at the drink, looking back and forth between it and her. “Is that regular milk, or—“ 

“Coconut milk.” Toph tells him, extending her arm. “Don’t worry. I’m well aware of what dairy does to that nightmare you call a GI tract.” 

“Thanks.” He says flatly, holding out a hand. “I’ll try a little bit.” 

Toph smiles triumphantly as Zuko takes the cup from her. He holds it up to his face, swishing around the liquid to see if any unidentifiable clumps of food float past. He can’t spot any this time and his anxiety settles down, finding a small amount of solace in the knowledge that Toph isn’t trying to poison him with wet, rubbery egg chunks. 

Zuko brings the straw to his lips and takes a cautious sip, waiting for his initial fear to pass before actually trying more. It isn’t unnecessarily salty or viscous or anything that would normally alarm him. To his surprise, Toph’s right; the drink _is_ good. It has notes of nutty flavor and something spicy that Zuko can’t quite identify. Either way, he’s happy to know that he’s not going to have to trudge to the back and rinse a terribly foul taste out of his mouth. 

“Wow,” He says, taking another sip. “This actually is kind of delicious. What is it?” 

Toph leans onto the counter. “Oh you know, just the roasted chestnut flavor we got in, a little bit of chai, and a hint of vanilla syrup.” She bows. “I know, it’s great, you’re welcome.” 

“Can I have the rest? You made it, so it’s fine if not, but—“ 

“Why of _course_ you can have the rest.” She tells him. “I’m honored to have appeased such a picky eater.” 

“I’m not— why does everyone say that?” Zuko asks. “I’m not a picky eater. I just don’t like—“ 

“Everything.” 

“Certain flavors.” 

Toph raises a brow. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Zucchini.” 

Zuko opens his mouth to speak again, but the sound of the bell above the door ringing catches both their attention. He quickly places the drink out of sight and Toph tries to make herself look busy, picking up a random box from the floor to usher to the back room. She slips out of sight as Zuko turns around to face the register. 

“Welco—“ 

He stops dead. 

A familiar ache of anxiety radiates through his chest as Zuko lays eyes on the person in front of him. The man lets the door close behind him and shoves his hands in the pockets of his oversized leather jacket, smirking as he approaches the counter. 

“Hey Zu.” Jet says politely. “How are you?” 

Zuko doesn’t respond. He isn’t prepared for this. Jet hadn’t pulled something like this in months. After they’d broken up, he’d shown up at the Jasmine Dragon regularly looking for Zuko. He ignored his calls and messages on social media and Jet apparently had no problem cornering him in his place of work. Zuko spent those weeks constantly switching shifts with his coworkers and begging Iroh for short early morning shifts. Iroh had needed a new opener anyway, so he was more than happy to oblige him. 

The schedule changes did their job, Zuko had heard from Teo that Jet would show up at night and go red with anger when Zuko was nowhere to be found. His other coworkers could put two and two together, they knew that something was keeping Zuko far away from the night shift and Jet was the common denominator. Needless to say, none of them were as hospitable to Jet as they were to other customers. That, in combination with him failing to ever figure out Zuko’s schedule had most likely frustrated him enough to discourage him from coming back that often. 

Zuko doesn’t know why Jet had decided today was a good day to come and harass him at work or how he’d even guessed the right shift he’d be working, but then again, he never needed a reason. Any chance at reaching out to Zuko was reason enough. 

Jet stops a foot or so away from the counter and raises a brow, looking Zuko up and down. 

“You seem good. I didn’t notice you grew your hair out.” He says, his eyes noting Zuko’s ponytail. “It suits you. It probably looks great when it’s down.” 

Zuko draws in a measured, slow breath, trying to keep himself composed. “Is there something that you want, Jet?” 

He seems miffed by the coldness of Zuko’s tone. A hand leaves his pocket and reaches over to fiddle with a straw, shrugging in response. 

“I was in the neighborhood. I thought I’d stop by and see if you were in.” He tells him. “Y’know, just to say ‘hi’.” 

“Sure you were.” Zuko says, glowering at him. “You’ve said ‘hi’. You’re more than welcome to leave.” 

Jet frowns. “Zu, I just want to know how you are. You won’t talk to me.” 

“Of course I won’t talk to you! I don’t _want_ to talk to you!” He snaps back, raising his voice. “I don’t get what’s so hard to understand about that—“

Zuko’s eyes dart to the patrons in the dining area. A few of them are looking in their direction with either concerned or annoyed expressions. Zuko closes his mouth and tries to regain his composure. He doesn’t need a complaint from a customer going to his uncle. 

Zuko looks back at Jet and inhales slowly. “You can’t just come in here and expect to sweet talk me back into trusting you.” He says quietly. “If you can’t get it through your head that I don’t fucking want anything to do with you anymore, then that’s not my problem.” 

“You never let me apologize for anything, Zuko.” Jet snaps, stepping closer. “You completely shut me out. You didn’t even let me explain myself.”

“ _Explain_ yourself?” He asks incredulously. “What possible explanation could there be for you to treat me the way you did?” 

Zuko’s voice cracks with anguish and Jet holds his tongue. It’s clear from Zuko’s controlled breathing that he’s holding back what he really wants to say. He wants to bring everything up, to throw all his grievances out on the table for the world to see. Despite the sliver of a chance that he would ever get through to him, it all still hurts too much to think about.

Zuko closes his eyes, inhaling slowly. “I don’t want to talk about any of this.” 

“Zu, _please—_ “ 

“If you’re not going to order anything, then you need to leave.” He tells him, turning away. “I have better things to do with my time right now.” 

“Passionfruit Green Tea.” 

Zuko looks back at him with a searing glare. “What?” 

“I said I want a green tea.” Jet repeats, not moving. “You said order something or leave, so I’ll order something.”

Zuko can’t say what he wants to. He wants to scream at Jet to get the fuck out, to just leave him alone and let him work in peace, but there’s too many customers around. It would cause too much of a scene for Zuko to get away with it, especially with Iroh in the back office. 

Zuko doesn’t say anything. He walks over towards the barista station and flips a switch on one of the tea brewers, facing away as he reaches for the passion fruit flavoring. He can feel Jet’s eyes on him as he starts preparing the drink and tries not to focus on it.

“I miss you a lot, Zuko.” Jet says. “I know that we didn’t have a perfect relationship, but I feel like if you just gave me the time of day, we could try to work things out.” 

Zuko stays silent, resisting the urge to turn and roll his eyes. 

“I know you think about us.” He goes on. “You still care, even if you pretend you don’t.” 

“That’s a bold assumption to make.” Zuko finally says, not looking up from the pot of tea in his hands. “I don’t owe you any space in my mind.” 

“I think I at least deserve to say my piece.” 

Zuko’s eyes cut over to him. “You don’t deserve _shit_ from me.” 

Jet scoffs. “There you go again, not even letting me speak—“ 

“Why _should_ I?!” Zuko snaps back. “I don’t care about what it is you have to say to me, Jet!”

Zuko doesn’t realize he’s raised his voice until it’s too late. Patrons glance over again and he sees one girl whisper to the man sitting next to her, looking back and forth between him and Jet. 

Zuko feels sick to his stomach. It feels like a nightmare; having his ex try and goad a reaction out of him where doing just that will most certainly get him in trouble. He feels as if he’s trapped by social convention, and he’s strongly holding back the desire to throw Jet’s drink directly in his face. 

He hears footsteps from behind him and Zuko turns away, silent as Toph walks out from the back room. She uses her hand to guide her along the counter until she’s close enough to Zuko, tilting her head up to whisper into his ear. 

“Why is Jet here?”

Zuko blinks as he whispers back. “How did you know?” 

“He’s got a pretty distinct voice.” She says. “You two are also yelling, so that helped.” 

“...Did my uncle hear anything?”

“I doubt it. He’s in his office blasting biwa music.”

Zuko sighs in relief. “Thank God.” 

“What does he want this time?” Toph asks. “I haven’t heard him around for a while.” 

“What he always wants.” Zuko replies dryly. “To ‘talk’.” 

She drums her fingers along the countertop as she hears the sound of liquid being poured. 

“Is that for him?” 

He looks up. “The drink? Yeah. He’s being an asshole and won’t leave.” 

“Move, then.” 

Zuko gives her a confused look. “What?” 

“I said, ‘move’. I’ll finish this.” She nudges him out of his spot with her side, feeling out in front of her for the cup. “Which one is this?” 

“Passionfruit Green Tea,” Zuko replies. “But you really don’t have to do this—“ 

“Zuko, just go in the back already. I can handle it.” Toph says. “Did you add the passion fruit yet?” 

“No, not yet—“ 

“Great, I know where to start. Now _go.”_

Toph’s fully taken over the process of making the drink and Zuko knows he won’t be able to intervene at this point. He turns away and walks towards the back room, ignoring Jet’s constant gaze as he passes through the doorway. 

Zuko glances around the kitchen as he takes a seat on one of the many black crates scattered across the floor. He won’t lie and say he’s not shaken. He’s become pretty good at not seeming anxious whenever Jet confronts him, but underneath the front it still leaves him on edge. Jet’s ability to manipulate others is borderline frightening. Zuko’s in a far less vulnerable place mentally than he had been when they’d dated, but the underlying fear of Jet possibly weaseling his way back in still lurks in the back of his mind. 

Toph comes back in a few minutes later with her hands in her apron, looking in no particular direction as she speaks. 

“He’s gone, Zuko.” She leans against a shelf. “He sounded really annoyed when I rang him up, but he left eventually.” 

Zuko takes a breath of relief as he rests his head in his hands. “Thank God. Thank you Toph, really.” 

“Dude, you don’t need to thank me.” She says, walking in his direction. “He hasn’t done that in a while. I know it probably freaked you out.” 

“I hate to admit it, but yeah, it did.” He says. “I just want to be left _alone_. I’m trying so hard to put all of this shit behind me, but he keeps trying to force his way back into my life.” 

Toph purses her lips. “...I know. I’m sorry.” 

Zuko looks up. “Toph, this is in _no_ way your fault. You couldn’t have known Jet would be like this—“ 

“I pushed you to pursue him, though.” She says. “I can’t help but feel like none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t.” 

“Please don’t blame yourself.” Zuko climbs to his feet. “You just wanted me to put myself out there, and I did. I don’t regret dating Jet. It taught me things about myself that I wouldn’t have known otherwise.” 

Toph stays silent for a moment before a small smile appears on her face. “I’m glad you can see the good in this shit show.” 

Zuko smiles back. “I try to.” 

Another beat passes. 

“Have you told Iroh about what happened between you and Jet?” Toph asks, a hint of concern in her voice. “Shouldn’t he have the authority to ban him from coming in?” 

Zuko looks away. “He does, but I don’t want to stress him out.” 

“Stress him out? Zuko, he’s your _uncle_.” 

“Yeah, he is, but he’s also an old man with a business to run.” He tells her. “Running the Jasmine Dragon practically by himself is mentally taxing enough for him. I don’t want to add to that by making him worry about me.” 

Toph lets out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t be serious, Zuko. I don’t think Iroh would be bothered to stop your emotionally abusive ex from harassing you at work—“ 

“Toph, I said that I don’t want to.” Zuko cuts her off, shooting her a glare. “He’s _my_ uncle. I think I know what’s best for him.” 

She can tell by his tone of voice that the subject isn’t up for debate anymore. She pushes up off the shelf and stands there for a moment, debating what to say next. 

“Fine. If you say so.” Toph walks towards the door. “I’m gonna go clean the tea brewer. Come back out whenever you feel like it.” 

“Thanks.” 

She’s gone in a few seconds and Zuko glances over towards Iroh’s office, barely catching a glimpse of the back of his uncle’s head as he sits at his desk. 

He can’t. He’s seen Iroh spend hours in the Jasmine Dragon, combing through paperwork and working tirelessly at a job that isn’t meant for one person. The last thing he needs is to know that his nephew is being stalked by an obsessive ex. His friends were already concerned enough, he doesn’t want Iroh worrying about him too. 

  
  


* * *

“I hate it here.” 

Suki looks up from her lunch as Sokka trudges into the break room, his badge in hand. He walks over to the time clock on the far wall and swipes it through the reader, sighing contentedly at the beep that follows. 

“I don’t know why Jeong keeps putting us on shifts with Due and Tho.” He says, plopping down into one of the chairs by the table. “I’m really starting to think he hates us.” 

Suki scoffs. “Jeong loves me. If anything, I think he doesn’t trust them to be on a shift by themselves.” 

“Okay, fair, but why should I be punished because I’m a good worker?” Sokka asks. “I feel like I lose brain cells every time I clock in. I need those, you know.” 

“Really? You seem to get by without a lot already.” Suki chuckles at the scowl Sokka gives her. “I’m joking.” 

“My brain knows that, but my heart doesn’t.” He says, clutching his chest. “And it’s wounded.” 

She points. “There’s a first aid kit on the wall over there.” 

Sokka blows a raspberry at her and Suki chuckles softly, looking back down at her food as she pokes around it with her fork. He glances around the room for something to quell his growling stomach but only spots a few of those crumbly granola bars that Zuko loved for some reason. He doesn’t have enough time to go somewhere to get lunch; the closest place to the warehouse was at least a fifteen minute walk away. By that time his break would be over, and he’d have to choose between going another four hours without eating or practically inhaling whatever takeout he’d gotten at the door.

“Is there anything not dry and gross in the fridge?” Sokka asks, looking over at it. “I forgot to bring something to eat before I left this morning.” 

Suki shrugs. “I saw frozen lasagna that’s been in the freezer for a week or so. I’m not sure whoever brought it even remembers it’s in there, to be honest.” 

Sokka groans and pushes himself out from the table. “It’ll have to do, I guess.” 

Her eyes follow him as he walks around to the fridge. “You know, for someone who loves cooking, I’d expect you to be more on top of bringing a decent lunch for yourself.” 

“I’ve been kind of preoccupied with other things lately.” Sokka replies, shutting the freezer. “Cooking hasn’t really been my top priority right now.” 

“Wow, that’s a shocker.” Suki says. “What’s got you so distracted?” 

Sokka pauses when he reaches the microwave. He knows the answer, but the details about his current involvement with Zuko aren’t something he necessarily wants to disclose to the world just yet. 

“Oh, you know.” He says. “Stuff.” 

“... _‘Stuff’?”_

Sokka shuts the microwave. “Yep, stuff.” 

He stays silent as Suki’s narrowed eyes bore into the side of his head. 

“What kind of ‘stuff’, Sokka?” 

“The kind that isn’t worth talking about.” He replies nonchalantly. “It’s not really all that important.” 

Suki smirks knowingly as she leans on her elbow. “You can’t possibly expect me to be satisfied with that answer.” 

“I think it’s a perfectly fine answer to your question, actually.” 

_“Sokka.”_

“What?” He asks, his lunch in hand as he walks back over to the table. “Why does it matter? The point is that if I seem a little scatterbrained lately, it’s because I’ve got a lot going on behind the scenes.” He grabs a fork from the basket a few inches away. “Nothing serious though, so don’t worry about it.” 

Suki purses her lips, looking him over. “So, it definitely wouldn’t have anything to do with Zuko, would it?” 

Sokka nearly chokes on the lump of food in his throat. “What? Where did you get that idea from?” 

She tilts her head towards the counter. “From your phone over there.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You left it in here to charge and it’s been going off non stop since I clocked out.” Suki says. “I got up to silence it while I was on break so I could, you know, _think_ , and you have like ten texts from Zuko.” 

“Suki!” Sokka exclaims. “Why would you read my messages?” 

“I didn’t read anything! I promise.” She defends. “I just caught a glimpse of Zuko’s name, that’s all.” 

“So what if we’re texting a lot? We’re roommates.” Sokka grumbles, stabbing a noodle with his fork. “It isn’t indicative of anything.” 

Suki’s eyes widen. “I didn’t say it was.” 

He flinches. She definitely hadn’t, and now he’s mentally kicking himself for somehow making everything seem _more_ suspicious. 

“...Good. Because it isn’t.” 

The way Suki’s looking at him is making Sokka nervous. She’s always been far too perceptive for his liking, especially right now. Her eyes are narrowed at him as if she can see through his facade like glass, and his deliberate avoidance of her gaze isn’t exactly helping his case.

“How is Zuko, anyway?” She finally asks. “Did you ever find out if he had a secret boyfriend or whatever?” 

Sokka shakes his head. “He doesn’t. Not that I know of, anyway.” 

“Hmm, good to know.” Suki says. “I’ve got a friend who seems like he’d get along with Zuko well. I thought about trying to introduce them—“ 

“That isn’t a good idea.” 

Sokka surprises himself with how quickly he cuts her off. She gives him a confused glance and raises a brow. 

“What? Why? I thought you just said he was single.” 

Sokka swallows. “Um, yeah, he is, but...he’s got a lot on his plate right now. Zuko’s working two jobs and rehearsing for a college application.” He explains. “I’m just saying. He’d probably tell your friend that he’s too busy to be involved with someone.” 

“I feel like he should hear that from _him_.” 

“Look, I’m just trying to save you guys a headache.” He says. “I know Zuko. He’s a perfectionist; he’d probably think a relationship would be a distraction from all his other priorities.” Sokka holds a hand up. “If you still wanna set them up though, that’s all well and good. The guy should just be aware that his chances aren’t all that high.” 

Suki cocks her head to the side as she looks at him, her expression questioning and doubtful. “Is there a reason why you’re being so defensive today?” 

“Defensive? How am I being defensive?” 

“You’re acting like you’re Zuko’s bodyguard or something.” She replies. “Not to mention that you’re being weirdly cryptic about everything.”

Sokka swears that between Suki and Toph, their abilities to read people is both frightening and annoying. He doesn’t even know _why_ he’s suddenly being so protective of Zuko. The only possible explanation he can think of is that it was something that naturally happened the closer he got to someone, and he and Zuko _had_ been spending a lot more time together recently. 

“It’s complicated, Suki. I don’t know how else to put it.”

Her eyes remain on his. “Sokka, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

He blinks. “Of course I do.” 

“So there’s nothing that you want to talk about? Nothing at all that you want to get off your chest?” 

Sokka almost wants to tell her. Not every single little detail of his new arrangement with Zuko, but maybe just a bit about his recent sexual awakening. Toph is the only person who actually knows what’s going on with him, and while her tough love is what he needs sometimes, Suki’s gentleness and support felt like something he could use right about now. 

“Suki, I’m fine. I promise,” He replies instead. “If it gets to a point where I need to talk, then I’ll come find you, but I’m alright. Really.” 

Despite the way she studies his face, Suki eventually relaxes. She shrugs and pushes herself out from under the table, lifting her tupperware as she goes to rinse it out in the sink. 

“Fine, fine. I won’t press you anymore about it.” 

Sokka sighs in relief and waves goodbye as she clocks back in. “Have fun in Hell. See you soon.” 

Suki chuckles as she exits and Sokka sits back in his chair, mentally kicking himself at how terribly he’d handled that conversation. He could not have made the fact that he was hiding something more obvious. How the hell did Zuko do this every day? He’d apparently been camming for months before Sokka had found out. How Zuko managed to keep it all a secret was beyond him. Sokka’s barely dipped his toe into the camming industry and he already feels like there’s a mountain sized weight on his chest. 

It had been a little while since he and Zuko’d had their first ‘practice round’. Their schedules had been far too all over the place recently for them to allot the time necessary for a proper session. Sokka hadn’t anticipated feeling this antsy from one to the next, but if he was being honest with himself, it had been a while since he’d hooked up with someone other than Zuko. His body had gotten a sweet taste of lust and desire that he hadn’t felt in months; he’s trying not to be so hard on himself for wanting seconds. 

Sokka looks over toward the wall where his phone is charging and briefly rises to his feet, going over to see what could possibly warrant so many texts from Zuko. Suki had been exaggerating; he’d only missed a few messages from him. He squints as he reads through them, scanning the screen as quickly as he can. 

  
  


**_“Okay, can you do tomorrow night?”_ **

**_“I think I’ve found someone who can switch shifts with me, but it’s a morning shift the next day. We might not be able to go at it too late.”_ **

**_“If that works for you.”_ **

**_“If not I can figure something else out.”_ **

  
  


Sokka inhales sharply. Zuko was going through this much trouble for him? For _sex?_

  
  


**_Sokka: “Dude, you do not have to jump through all these hoops for me.”_ **

**_Sokka: “If it’s inconvenient for you then don’t sweat it, really. We’ll figure out a day.”_ **

  
  


Sokka can barely look away from his phone before Zuko replies. 

  
  


**_Zuko: “It’s not a problem for me. I don’t mind moving things around for this.”_ **

**_Zuko: “I had a good time last round. I hope it was good for you too?”_ **

  
  


Sokka feels a familiar heat in his chest as he texts back. _Zuko liked it._

**_Sokka: “Zukes, I had a mindblowing time. Who knew dudes were so hot.”_ **

  
  


He rubs his forehead. Where in the _world_ had his tact gone all of the sudden? 

  
  


**_Zuko: “I’m glad to hear that.”_ **

**_Zuko: “So, do you think you can do tomorrow?”_ **

  
  


Sokka feels that same nervousness he’d felt the night he and Zuko had fooled around envelope him once again. They’d have to go further this time, right? It wouldn’t make sense to just repeat what they’d done the first go round, and how far would they let it go? How far was _Zuko_ willing to go this time? 

He feels like an ameuter singer with crippling stage fright. Even if they did end up going all the way this time, there was a chance things wouldn’t go as smoothly as they had before. Despite Sokka’s anxiety holding his brain hostage, he _has_ to say something back to Zuko. 

  
  
  


**_Sokka: “Yeah, that works for me. I have a mid shift.”_ **

**_Zuko: “Cool. Sounds good.”_ **

  
  


Sokka sends back a thumbs up and exhales heavily, locking his phone before shoving it into his pocket. He casually thinks that maybe he should leave it on silent for the rest of the day. If Zuko surprised him with anymore reminders of their arrangement for tomorrow night, Sokka doesn’t know if he’ll be able to make it through the rest of his already awful shift. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Been arting and such in addition to writing, so I’ve been a little busy. But that being said, thanks for being patient!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who didn't even realize it had been a month since their last update? Yours truly. I deeply appreciate yalls patience! I write ahead and I've been spending a lot of time working on later chapters (plus kinktober's been kicking my ass), so I'm finally able to update again! (Thank you for all the lovely comments! Some I wasn't able to get to but I appreciate them all greatly) 
> 
> Also, another side note: I feel I should make the disclaimer that despite Jet being an antagonist in this fic, I don't dislike him as a character at all lol. This fic is just one portrayal of him, and not every fic i write is going to be like tht. 
> 
> Okay all that out of the way, I hope yall enjoy CHP 10!

_‘Breathe, just breathe...’  
_

Zuko lets a shallow breath escape from his nose as he spreads his legs wider, hissing at the prickling sensation that radiates in the valley between them. He takes in a chest full of air and attempts to press the toy in his hand deeper, gritting his teeth at the stretch. 

“Fuck, _fuck—_ “

His free hand grabs onto the sheets for dear life while the other works tirelessly. Zuko knows that with enough diligence he can do this, he just needs to relax enough to make it happen. 

He tries thinking about a sandy tropical beach and a warm bonfire burning close to the shoreline and anything that can bring his heart rate down to no avail. The thoughts do absolutely nothing for him and Zuko groans in frustration, beyond irritated with himself. 

He’d only chosen to use a bigger toy to try and be proactive for that night’s plans. Zuko didn’t really use it that much in his own time; it was far too time-consuming for his body to adjust to on a regular day. Thinking about the events to come later that night and the very _strong_ chance that he and Sokka would legitimately have sex, it felt almost negligent to not try and prepare his body for...well, _Sokka._

Zuko attempts to gather himself again and employs a meditation technique, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as he searches his mind for something else to calm him down. 

The memory of Sokka on top of him glimmers behind his eyes and Zuko’s breath hitches at the thought of it. He isn’t sure if he should really _let_ himself use it as masturbation fuel. Something about it felt...weird; wrong, almost? Their endeavors were supposed to be business only. Lying on his back and letting himself revel in the thought of the way Sokka had touched him that night was tap-dancing on that line. 

Zuko’s mind wanders and the memory of Sokka’s lips on his neck sends a chill throughout his entire body. The moment before he tries to shove the thought away, the resistance holding back the toy gives way momentarily, eagerly allowing another inch to slide in. 

Zuko’s abdomen tightens and he moans at the sensation. _Jesus._ He knows this isn’t the first time he’s used this, but it never fails to fry his nerves whenever he does. The initial sting doesn’t linger long and Zuko thinks before uttering a quiet “Fuck it” to himself, letting his mind reminisce about their first encounter in more detail. 

With a steadily rising chest, Zuko recounts how it felt when Sokka touched him with rough hands— when he’d pinned his wrists above his head when Zuko had tried to stifle his moans. His cock twitches with want and he gives in further, piecing together the memory of how _incredible_ it felt when Sokka ground up against him. He’d dug his fingers into Zuko’s sides and held him down tight as he rolled his hips upward, eliciting friction between their clothed erections that made Zuko nearly double over with pleasure. 

Zuko shivers as he presses the toy in again, shocked by the feeling of it sliding in nearly to the hilt. The sudden sensation of being stretched wide and filled to the brim makes his jaw drop as his breath stutters. The noise he lets out is loud and ungodly and he’s thankful that he’d decided to do this before Sokka got home for the day. Every little movement is making his head spin and Zuko feels like his brain might short circuit if he dares to conjure up another memory. He’d gone into this with the mere intention of prepping himself for later tonight—he hadn’t meant for this to escalate into him desperately resisting the urge to grab his cock mercilessly and jerk himself off. 

Zuko’s ripped from his fantasy when he hears a loud chime echo through his room. He blinks a few times and his eyes dart to every surface until he spots his phone on his nightstand, the screen lit up with Mai’s caller ID. He groans and reaches over to decline the call. If whatever she wanted was actually that important, she’d call back. 

Zuko only gets about ten seconds of peace before his phone lights up again, vibrating loudly against the wood and ringing incessantly. Fearing she’d only keep calling if he continued to ignore her, Zuko rolls his eyes and decides to press pause on what he's doing. He removes the toy from himself (far more quickly than he should) and shudders at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Zuko tosses it aside and reaches over to accept the video call, briefly collecting himself before the line picks up. 

“Hey—“ 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop ignoring me?” 

Zuko lowers his brow. “I was in the middle of something. What do you need?” 

“I was calling to check in on you, Zuko.” Mai replies, leaning back in her desk chair. She’s heavily made-up; her eyes are sharply lined and her cheeks covered in a crimson blush, all tied together with a deep, wine-colored lip. He can already tell she’s about to go live soon. Mai’s day to day appearance is nowhere near as done up as she is now. 

“Has it been that long since we last talked?” Zuko honestly wasn’t sure. The back to back shifts at work had started to make his days blur together.

“Um, yes, it has been.” She says. “You’ve barely texted since that whole thing with Sokka. I was starting to think something tragic happened.” 

Zuko swallows. She isn’t wrong now that he thinks about it. A lot of his free time had been dedicated to working out the logistics of how camming with Sokka was going to work. He realizes that he very well might have been pushing Mai and Ty Lee to the wayside. 

“Uh, no. Nothing bad happened.” He says hesitantly. “Everything’s alright between us.” 

She nods. “So what did happen?” 

Zuko goes blank. “Huh?” 

“How did that night go down?” Mai asks again. “Was he actually flirting with you?”

He doesn’t know why he’d expected her not to prod for more details. It’s _Mai_ he’s talking to, after all. 

“...You could say that.” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “ _And?”_

“And...I took your advice.” 

“You flirted back with him?” 

He nods. “Yeah.” 

“Zuko, stop beating around the bush.” She tells him. “Just spit it out, what happened?” 

Zuko sighs defeatedly. He might as well let the cat out of the bag. It isn’t as if being vague with her was getting him anywhere so far. He takes in a breath and lets the truth out, detailing their drunken attempts at passing the ball back and forth and reluctantly admitting that they’d kissed that night. Mai’s eyes widen. A grin spreads across her face and Zuko swears he hasn’t seen her smile so big in _years._

“Holy _shit_ ,” 

“Mai, please don’t make a big deal out of this—“ 

“I’m not making a big deal about it, Zuko.” She says. “You haven’t even _looked_ at a guy since Jet, and now you’re getting up close and personal with your hunky roommate. You can’t blame me for being intrigued.” 

“...I know. It’s just— I’m still adjusting to the idea _myself_. I’ve never really thought about Sokka like this before and now—“ 

_‘I can’t get the feeling of his touch out of my head,’_ he thinks to himself.

Mai gives him a fascinated look. “And now what? Did things escalate?” 

“...Yes.” 

She gawks at the camera. “How? What happened?” 

Zuko feels as if time stops around him when Mai utters the question. Both Ty Lee and Mai are nosy in their own unique ways. Is admitting he’d taken their suggestion regarding camming with Sokka really worth the inevitable interrogation he’d get in response? He knows that whether or not it comes out now or down the line, Mai’s going to pry it out of him eventually. 

“Well, Sokka told me that he’s pretty sure he’s attracted to men.” Zuko glances away. “And that he finds me attractive too.” 

“Interesting.” She says. “Is the feeling mutual?” 

Zuko pauses for a second, visualizing Sokka in his mind. He pictures his lean, tall physique and broad shoulders, his slender hips against his and ridiculously charming smirk. Sokka is _incredibly_ handsome. He’d been nowhere on Zuko’s radar given he didn’t even think for a second that Sokka wasn’t straight. Now, however, Zuko catches himself staring just a little bit too long far more frequently than he ever had before. 

“...Yeah.” Zuko replies. “That night I drunkenly asked him to cam with me, and at first I thought I’d fucked everything up—“ 

“ _But...?”_

“The next morning we talked about it and...well, he agreed, actually.” 

Zuko doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Mai look this enthused in his life. 

“Oh my fucking _God,_ ” She says, her grin wide. “I did not think in a million years that you were actually gonna do it. Holy shit.” 

“Yeah, neither did I.” Zuko sighs. “But here I am, I guess.” 

Mai leans on her elbow and closer to the camera, deeply enthralled in their conversation. “Have you guys gone live yet?” 

Zuko goes wide-eyed as he clears his throat. “Um, no, we haven’t. I thought maybe we should practice first—“ 

“And? How is he in bed?” 

A faint blush spreads across his cheeks as he tries not to stutter over his words. “We haven’t gone all the way yet but, he’s pretty good for not having done anything with a guy.” 

“Pretty good” was an understatement, but Zuko’s not sure he wants to admit it yet. They’d barely even scratched the surface of everything and the thought of Sokka doing anything at all to him was enough to make his cock twitch beneath the sheets. 

“...I’m nervous, though.” He says, his eyes timid. “We’re doing it again tonight, and we’re probably gonna...actually fuck this time.” 

“So? What’s the worry? You said he was good in bed.” 

“I mean, he is but--” Zuko rubs his temples, searching for the right words. “Giving Sokka a blowjob is one thing—“ 

“You sucked his dick already _?_ Go you.” 

“ _Mai.”_ He glares at her. “That isn’t the point. Actually letting him _inside_ me is an entirely different thing.” 

He’s never been great at completely letting go with someone new. On average it took weeks for Zuko to even show the slightest hint of vulnerability to a new partner. There isn’t any way around it this time, however. He’d have to fully open himself up to Sokka if this was going to work. Zuko would have to let Sokka see him without the mask that he normally hid behind and he’s not entirely sure if he’s capable of that. There’s still a part of his brain that whispers that fucking his best friend is muddying the boundaries of their friendship and Zuko tenses at the thought. But there’s another, much _louder_ part of his brain that's screaming at him to let go and just enjoy himself for once.

“I’m just-- it’s hard for me to, you know--because of--” 

“I know, Zuko.” 

He meets her eyes and frowns at the doleful expression on Mai’s face. She knows exactly what he’s trying to get across, without him even having to say it. 

“...I hate it.” Zuko says lowly, his brows fixed. “I feel like I can’t open up to anyone without remembering how much Jet took advantage of me--” 

“Zuko, listen to me.” Mai starts. “I know I don’t know Sokka that well, but from what I can gather, he isn’t Jet.” 

“I _know_ he isn’t, but my stupid fucking brain--” 

“Your brain is just coping with emotional trauma the best it can.” She finishes for him, her gaze intense. “Of course you’re hesitant, the last person you opened up to treated you like shit. Be patient with yourself, Zuko.” 

He glances away. “That’s easier said than done.” 

“I know, but the least you can do is try and let yourself enjoy whatever happens tonight.” Mai tells him. “You can always pump the breaks if it becomes too much.” 

“...You’re right. I can.” Zuko assures himself. “I should try and relax. Sokka actually listens and he’s patient with me. It’ll be fine.” 

“That’s the spirit.” She smirks. “I’m glad you’ve found an emotionally healthy source of dick.”

“ _Mai.”_

“What? I’m serious. You deserve it after all the bullshit you’ve been through.” 

“Thanks, I just wish you would’ve worded it differently.” 

Mai rolls her eyes. “If you’re looking for a poetic way for me to congratulate you on this, you’re not gonna get it.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Zuko glances over at the toy he’d tossed across the bed before checking the time. “Can I text you later? I’ve gotta get back to something I was doing before you called.” 

“Sure, as long as you _actually_ text me this time.” 

“I will, I promise.” He draws an “x” over his chest. “Cross my heart.” 

Mai waves goodbye and Zuko hangs up the call, lying back down to let the important takeaways from their conversation sink in. He just needs to loosen up, to remind himself that Sokka wouldn’t push him beyond his limits and that tonight was about business as _well_ as pleasure. He can do this, he just needs to trust Sokka. 

Zuko ponders the thought, remembering both his touch and his patience. 

He does trust him.

  
  


* * *

_‘You can do this.’_

_‘You got this. You sir, are a sex_ **_god._ ** **’**

 _‘You’ve given people_ **_life-changing_ ** _head.’  
  
_

Sokka stands in his room hunched over his dresser, staring directly back at his reflection. If he’s being honest with himself, this isn’t the first time he’s given himself a mirror pep talk and it surely won’t be the last, especially not with his new career choice on the horizon. He’s been standing there for the past ten minutes, desperately trying to shake off the performance anxiety building in his mind. 

He’d gotten in a bit late due to a random outage on the train ride home, but he’d gotten in nonetheless. Zuko hasn’t come out of room yet and Sokka can only assume that maybe he’s meditating or something. He can’t blame him; if meditation did anything to actually relax him and not put him to sleep, Sokka would probably be sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor too. 

Sokka can’t grasp why he’s suddenly so anxious again. They’d had their first practice round and it had gone _phenomenally_ in his opinion. Tonight was just going to be a step up from that, right? He’s done his research and memorized a plethora of information on the _proper_ way to please another man, he’s skipped out on wearing boxers for easy access and he’s already drunk a gallon of water to try and boost his stamina. Sokka’s done practically everything he can to prepare for tonight.

So _why_ was the thought of having sex with Zuko still making his heart beat out of his chest?

He’d barely been able to keep himself together during their first round. Sokka had backlogged a few prominent memories of just how gorgeous Zuko looked beneath him, with locks of dark hair splayed out around his head and those half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. Normally, Sokka had fairly decent self-control during sex, but _God,_ something about the way Zuko _melted_ when he was being pleasured made Sokka want to throw all caution to the wind. 

Sokka takes a deep breath and tilts his head up to look in the mirror again, only to screech at the sight of Zuko standing in the doorway behind him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Zuko!” He whips around, every muscle in his body rigid with fear. “Do I need to put a bell on you or something? You nearly gave me a heart attack!” 

Zuko holds his hands up. “Sorry, I thought you would’ve heard me coming.” 

“ _No,_ I didn’t. Make some noise next time, will you?” Sokka places his hand on his chest. “I swear to God, you move around this apartment like a ghost sometimes.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes as he folds his arms. “Gee, I’m sorry that I don’t stomp around the house constantly like you do.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a big guy with big feet. I have every right to stomp around.” Sokka tells him. “It’s just my natural gait.” 

Zuko scoffs. “You’re six feet tall. You’re not a giant, Sokka.” 

He shrugs. “Maybe not, but I’m still taller than you.” 

“By two inches.” 

Sokka holds a hand up to his ear. “I’m sorry, what’d you say? I don’t think I can hear you from all the way down there.” 

“You’re hilarious _.”_

Sokka snickers when Zuko shoves his shoulder, flashing a cocky grin in response. “Do you wanna lead the way to your quarters, your royal shortness?” 

Zuko takes a few steps backwards out of the bathroom. “Only if you don’t talk on the way there.” 

“I make no such promises. I’m physically incapable of being quiet for more than a few seconds.” 

“Yeah, it shows.” 

Zuko turns on his heels, guiding Sokka down their dimly lit hall until he pushes open his bedroom door. A familiar red light fills the room and casts a sensual glow on every surface, casually setting the tone for the night to come. 

The door closes behind them and the first thing Sokka notices is that Zuko had put on music this time. He spots his half-closed laptop perched on his desk and looks back over at Zuko, chuckling softly. 

“Nice choice,” Sokka says, approaching him. “I don’t think music’s gonna drown out those moans though, Zukes.” 

Zuko blushes pink and looks towards the wall. “Listen, I know I can be kind of loud, okay? I was just trying to set the mood—” 

“Relax, I’m just teasing. I think it’s a great mood setter.” He smiles goofily. “And honestly, I gotta say that I’m a _big_ fan of the sounds you make.” 

Zuko raises a brow. “ _Really?_ I hate them. It’s the reason why I can barely watch my streams over again.” He says. “I feel like I sound like a dying animal.” 

“Uh, _no.”_ Sokka disagrees, stepping closer to Zuko. He takes it upon himself to slide behind him, casually wrapping his arms around his waist as he speaks into his ear. “You sound amazing, and if I don’t hear more, I think I might go crazy.” 

There’s a shift in Sokka’s tone that sends chills down Zuko’s spine. His normal cadence was higher, bouncier than the voice he’d just spoken in. It takes on a certain husk that Zuko had gotten glimpses of during their first practice round. Having Sokka speak sultrily into his ear like this, however, was an _entirely_ different experience. 

Sokka takes note of Zuko’s silence, reaching up to brush his loose hair behind his ear. “You okay?” 

Zuko blinks. “Yeah— um, you’re just really... _mmm—“_ He moans quietly and leans back into Sokka’s embrace, taking in the feeling of his lips on his neck.

“Really what?” 

“Warm. You feel really...nice.” 

Sokka smiles into his soft skin. “I’m glad you think so.”

His lips return to the task at hand, pressing searing kisses into the crook of Zuko’s neck so torturously slow that he can feel him shudder under his touch. Sokka decides to give him a break this time, letting one of his hands snake up to cup Zuko’s jaw. He guides his head to look back over his shoulder, eagerly capturing his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Sokka doesn’t feel the need to be cautiously chaste this time. The response he’d gotten from kissing Zuko roughly their first time had been stellar, so he decides to skip the coyness this go round.

To his pleasure, Zuko’s tongue intrudes his mouth with vigor, melding with Sokka’s so fully it nearly feels obscene. It’s a nice change of pace. Zuko being forward in the bedroom is something he’d yet to see, and so far, Sokka’s thoroughly enjoying it. 

It’s then that he realizes that it takes considerably less time for Zuko to rile him up than anyone he’s ever been with. The mere act of having him this close and pressing his tongue ardently into his mouth shoots waves of arousal through Sokka’s groin. His sweatpants were fairly loose, and he can already feel himself tenting just inches from Zuko’s ass.

Zuko’s teeth graze over Sokka’s bottom lip, playfully biting it as he pulls back from the kiss. Sokka lets out a noise not too unlike a growl and grinds forward, pressing his dick firmly between Zuko’s cheeks. He gasps and his head falls back onto Sokka’s shoulder, his lips parted in a silent cry.

“You like that, baby?” Sokka asks, speaking into his ear again.

A soft whine leaves Zuko’s mouth and he barely nods, grinding his own hips back to meet his motions. 

“Damn, you weren’t kidding.” Sokka chuckles. “Pet names really do it for you, huh?” 

Zuko casts a glare over his shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

Zuko accepts the challenge with fervor, turning on his heels to corral him back towards the bed. Sokka’s foot catches on the bed skirt and he falls back onto the mattress, barely having a chance to register the new position before Zuko’s crawling over top of him. He smashes their lips together again in a blistering kiss, adoring the way Sokka moans into it. His hands brace on Zuko’s shoulders and shove him back, taking control as he flips them over. 

Sokka cages Zuko’s wrists against the bed and smiles coyly, unbothered by the betrayed look on his face. “You took good care of me last time, let me take care of you.” 

Zuko doesn’t understand at first. Sokka _had_ gotten him off last time. What the hell did he mean by that? 

“Take care of me?” He asks, his brow raised. “But we both--” 

“Yeah, I know we did.” Sokka cuts him off, his eyes flickering. “But I can do better.” 

“You did fine, Sokka--” 

“Zuko,” He interrupts again. “I wanna eat you out.” 

The statement nearly makes time stop in Zuko’s mind. He knows for a fact that his face has to be bright red. It’d felt like millenia since someone had ever done such a thing to him. Suddenly being served the offer on a silver platter, by his best friend at that, had understandably floored him. 

“Unless you don’t want me too--” 

“I didn’t say that.” Zuko quickly retorts. “Have you ever...?” 

Sokka scoffs, rolling his eyes. “ _Yes_ , Zuko, I’ve eaten someone’s ass before. I’ve done _some_ butt stuff. Not a lot, but some.” 

It’s reassuring to hear. The idea of having to give him a step-by-step lesson on how to properly rim someone isn’t the most appealing idea in the world. 

“...Okay. Cool. Great.” Zuko smirks nervously. “Uh, go to town then.” 

Sokka gives a content smile and pecks him on the lips before slowly sinking down, gently pushing up Zuko’s t-shirt to expose his torso. He leaves a trail of warm, slow kisses along his chest, briefly stopping to drag his tongue along the hardened bud of Zuko’s nipple. He’s thrilled by the reaction he gets; Zuko’s breath hitches and his muscles tense up, only to go slack when Sokka wraps his lips around it. His opposite hand slides across to roll the other one beneath the pad of his thumb, sucking gently as a soft, breathy moan slips from Zuko’s mouth. 

He’s incredibly sensitive to being touched; it’s something Sokka’s quickly taken note of. Whether it be a hand on his waist or teeth grazing over the prickling skin of his neck, it always riles Zuko up to _some_ degree. Sokka decides that if there’s any time to take advantage of that fact, it’s now. His hands ghost over Zuko’s torso, caressing his sides and savoring the feeling of Zuko’s lean form under his grip.

He drags his tongue around Zuko’s nipple one last time before sinking lower, hooking his fingers beneath his boxers to drag them down his legs. They get caught around Zuko’s ankles for a few frustrating seconds before Sokka yanks them off, tossing them across the room with an unnecessary amount of force. 

“Someone seems impatient.” Zuko says, smirking down at him. “Guess you got tired of teasing so much?” 

Sokka scoffs. “‘Not by a long shot. I’ve just been...y'know, thinking about doing this since last time.” 

Zuko’s eyes widen. “Wait, shit, really?” 

“ _Yeah,_ Zuko, I have.” He replies, smirking. “Thanks for that, by the way. It made trying to focus at work _super_ fun.” 

Zuko feels flustered all of a sudden. Sokka had been thinking about doing this to him for a little over a week. The thought of Sokka sitting idly at work, pondering the thought of going down on him stirs up a mess of emotions in Zuko’s head that he can’t quite pick apart just yet. 

Sokka leans back on his knees, tentatively sliding his hands under Zuko’s legs. “On a scale from one to ten, how flexible are you?” 

He deadpans. “I’m a dancer.” 

“...Fuck, you’re right, okay. Stupid question.” 

Sokka takes hold of his calves, pressing them backward until Zuko’s knees are touching his shoulders. He inhales sharply at the sight in front of him, drinking in the beauty of Zuko’s exposed ass. 

“Are you just gonna stare, or are you going to do what you said you’d do?” 

Sokka looks up, raising a brow at him. “And _I’m_ the impatient one?” 

“Sokka, come _on.”_

He smiles mischievously, releasing one of Zuko’s legs to slide his hand between them. His finger slips down and lightly traces Zuko’s entrance, dragging a shaky breath from his mouth. 

“Maybe if you ask as nicely as you did before, I’ll consider it.” 

Zuko shudders at the sudden contact, his legs trembling pointedly with every circle Sokka’s finger draws. “ _Sokka.”_

“I’m not giving you what you want until you ask for it _properlyyy_.” He sings, adding pressure behind his motions. “I’m a professional tease, Zukes. I can do this all night.” 

When Sokka rubs just a touch harder at him, Zuko cracks, groaning as the words tumble out of his mouth. 

“Please?” He finally asks, his voice dripping with need. “ _Please_ eat my ass, Sokka. I want it.” 

Sokka grins and leans down to press a kiss to his lips. “Good boy.” 

Zuko tries to suppress the moan those words elicit as Sokka creeps down again, kissing down the valley between his thighs. He stops when his lips are merely an inch away from his entrance and uses his palms to spread Zuko’s cheeks. The thought is fleeting, but the subtle observation that they’re _more_ than a handful registers in Sokka’s head. It slips from the forefront of his mind when Zuko gives another impatient huff and he refocuses his attention, carefully flicking his tongue across the taut muscle. 

Sokka feels Zuko’s legs twitch beneath him and digs his fingers in harder, squeezing tightly as he goes in again, this time flattening his tongue against Zuko as he gives a few experimental licks.

Has Sokka done this before? Yes. Has he done it enough to know without a doubt he was doing a good job? Not quite. He’s done his homework, however, and by the way Zuko’s beginning to squirm underneath him, Sokka can only assume it’s paying off at least a little bit. 

Sokka hadn’t really realized that was something that turned him on. Feeling Zuko shudder beneath his touch sent a rush of adrenaline through him. The way his muscles shook uncontrollably with pleasure and knowing Zuko could _barely_ keep himself together made Sokka want to desperately test the boundary of how far he could stretch this band before it snapped. 

He feels needy hands wander into his hair and tangle themselves in his nearly loose ponytail. Sokka takes it upon himself to pull it free, letting his hair drape around his ears like a curtain. Zuko wrenches his fingers tighter, gasping at the sensation of Sokka’s tongue pressing past the outer rim of his asshole. 

_“Sokka!”_

He glances up and takes in the sight of Zuko’s head tossed back against the pillow before dragging his hips closer, burying himself as deep as he possibly can inside him. Sokka immediately feels Zuko buck involuntarily and grips a handful of his ass, holding him open as best he can while lapping at his insides; his tongue curling and melding with every crevice he can reach. 

“Sokka— _Sokka!”_

His own name on Zuko’s lips felt like music to his ears; it’s something Sokka wants to hear over and _over_ until Zuko’s voice is raw from screaming. He wants to see how far he can push him just like this. Sokka draws his tongue out and presses back in deep, repeating the motion as he spears Zuko open with every ounce of effort he can muster. 

Zuko feels like he’s burning up; the warmth building in his body is so all encompassing that passing out from heat stroke seems like a genuine concern to have. He doesn’t know what he expected; Sokka’s level of prowess feels _unreal._ The searing coil of pleasure twisting and turning in Zuko’s abdomen threatens to snap at any moment and he’s not sure he can even form a coherent sentence at this point. 

The sensation of wet warmth between his legs halts suddenly, much to Zuko’s displeasure. He barely gets the chance to protest before it’s replaced by a single finger pressing into him, slick with saliva and barely pushing in more than an inch. Before he can even process what’s happening, it curls upwards, rubbing vigorously into his prostate. Zuko cries out, arching off the bed before Sokka anchors him down with his free arm. 

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot.” He groans, watching Zuko with a ravenous look. He presses up with the pad of his finger, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into the bundle of nerves. 

“Oh God— _fuck—_ I _can’t—_ “ Zuko manages between whines, gripping Sokka’s hair tight enough to pull it out. “I feel like I might—“ 

The words get caught in his throat when the feeling of Sokka’s tongue returns, pushing its way back in alongside his finger. It all feels like too much. Fingering himself was one thing, but having Sokka push him so _fucking_ close to the edge that he might go tumbling over makes Zuko’s vision go hazy. The constant rise and fall of a building orgasm radiates through his abdomen like a ticking time bomb and he finally puts his mind back together, blurting out whatever he can to get Sokka to slow down. 

“Sokka—Sokka wait— _AH!”_ Zuko whines. “I don’t wanna— oh _fuck—”_

“Huh?” He pulls back momentarily, studying his spent face. 

“I don’t want to come yet.” Zuko says between pants. He glances down, sitting up to lean on his elbows. “I was really close.” 

Sokka furrows his brows. “But I haven’t even touched your dick yet—“

“It doesn’t matter for me.” He tells him. “I can come without it.” 

The look on Sokka’s face is one of pure shock, his eyes wide and staring back at him in awe. “You’re serious? You can _do_ that?” 

Zuko chuckles weakly. “Yeah, well, when you masturbate regularly for a living, you find out new things about your body pretty quickly.” 

Sokka blinks, completely in disbelief. “...We can stop if you really want to, but Zuko, you’ve _gotta_ let me revisit that down the line—“ 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We will, I promise.” He insists. “I just don’t want to come until you’re inside me.” 

Sokka’s eyes go wide the moment those words leave his mouth, suddenly ignited with a hunger that sends chills down Zuko’s spine. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and only stares back at him, prompting Zuko’s disposition to switch to one of concern. 

“Sokka...? Are you—“ 

Zuko swears as he’s nearly tackled, his wrists gripped tight and held against the bed with enough strength to leave brushes. Sokka crashes his lips onto his, sloppily kissing and licking inside Zuko’s mouth until he _has_ to come up for air. Zuko feels his heart twinge with dissatisfaction at the feeling of Sokka pulling away. He doesn’t want him to stop— he _wants_ Sokka to kiss him until he’s breathless and dizzy. But instead, Sokka presses his forehead to his and looks intently into Zuko's eyes, panting like a wild animal. 

“Good, because I wanna fuck the _shit_ out of you.” He sits up, pulling his shirt over his head. “Where’s the lube?” 

Zuko points to his nightstand and Sokka reaches over, fishing through the drawer until he grasps it along with a condom. He turns back, tugging at the hem of Zuko’s shirt to nudge him into taking it completely off. 

Sokka shifts briefly to pull his sweatpants off and tosses them to the ground, exposing himself entirely to Zuko’s wide eyes. Seeing him like this is foreign, but in a good way. He’s never seen Sokka in this state, with his hair down and mussed up from rough hands, his lean chest exposed and broad shoulders hovering over top of him. His waist is slender and toned, but broadens at the start of his fairly muscular thighs. Zuko had never considered it. Sure, he knew sometimes Sokka went to the gym when he had time, but it never clicked that his body would be so... _mesmerizing_. 

Sokka squirts a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers before reaching between Zuko’s legs, gently pressing two fingers back inside him. Zuko flinches at first but maintains his cool, breathing heavily as Sokka begins scissoring him open. 

Sokka glances down, his eyebrows high. “Wow, this is actually easier than I thought it would be.” He says. “You’re not super tight.” 

Zuko looks away, blushing. “Yeah, well, I did kind of...prep myself a little before you came home.” He admits. “Your dick isn’t exactly small.” 

Sokka looks suprísed. “You did that for _me?”_

“I mean, sure, but I mostly just wanted to be able to sit tomorrow.” 

He smirks, spreading his fingers a few more times before slipping them out. “I’ll go easy for now.” 

Sokka tears open the condom with his teeth, sheathing it on himself before smoothing an ample amount of lube over it. He chucks the bottle across the bed and refocuses on Zuko, positioning himself between his legs as he leans over top of him. 

“You ready?” 

Zuko nods and Sokka takes a deep breath, holding his cock in place as he slowly guides it forward. 

Despite the liberal amount of preparation Zuko put himself through, it still isn’t enough to prepare him for the initial sting of Sokka stretching him with every inch. He grits his teeth and grasps onto Sokka’s shoulders, digging his fingers in as he’s filled nearly beyond his limit. 

Sokka wants to take back what he’d said before, Zuko is tight— _insanely_ tight. It takes every ounce of his self control to keep his composure and not immediately give in to his urge to plunge in to the hilt. Zuko just feels so _incredible,_ clenching around his cock with a force that almost hurts in the most tantalizing way possible.

Sokka groans as he continues on, easing in for what feels like an eternity until finally bottoming out. Zuko lets out a deep exhale as he tries to center himself, finally prying his eyes open. 

“Sokka..?” He asks. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah— I’m _great—“_ Sokka chokes out. “I just— you’ve gotta give me a second, Zuko. This feels kind of mind blowing.” 

“Oh, shit, sorry—“ 

“Do _not_ apologize.” He breathes out, dragging his hips back only to slowly push back in. “Holy _fuck.”_

Zuko moans softly, quiet pants now trickling from his mouth. Sokka looks up through the hair hanging in his eyes and locks his gaze on Zuko, not daring to look away as he pulls back again. He thrusts back in with much more force, testing the waters to see just how much Zuko can take. The moan he gives in response is pointed and _loud_ , sending his head back into the pillow in a needy cry of pleasure. 

“Please—“ He whines. “Just _fuck_ me.” 

“You’re so fucking _pretty_ like this, though.” Sokka says, reaching up to brush a lock of damp hair out of Zuko’s face. “I could stare at you all night with _that_ face.” 

Zuko groans irritably and hooks his legs around Sokka’s waist, pulling him in so impossibly deep the room seems to spin. Sokka swears and grips onto the pillow beside Zuko’s head, taking in the feeling of his insides choking the life out of his cock. 

“ _Shit!“_ Sokka grits, panting. “Remember when I said I would hold back? Yeah, I don’t know if I can keep that promise anymore.” 

“I don’t _care!_ ” Zuko tells him, his voice seething with frustration. “Can you please just _fuck_ me already—“ 

His demand crumbles when Sokka pulls back, his hips now slamming forward at a rhythmic, _menacing_ pace. Zuko cries out and his hands scramble to find purchase on anything that can keep him grounded him in reality. He feels Sokka pressing into him deeper than anything he’s ever taken. It doesn’t feel like it should be possible, yet Zuko’s reeling from how much every single thrust spreads him open more and _more._

“You can be a real brat sometimes, you know that?” Sokka groans lowly between thrusts, his eyes boring into him. “You’re so fucking _demanding—_ “ 

“S— _Sok—_ “ 

“But if you want me to fuck you, then I’ll fuck you.” He leans into Zuko’s face. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t think straight. Maybe _that’ll_ shut you up.” 

Zuko’s _never_ seen this side of Sokka. Why would he have? Sokka could be aggressive and blunt sometimes, but not like _this_ . The amount of authority—the _commanding_ tone in his voice made Zuko’s entire body quiver with the desire to submit to Sokka’s every whim. 

It all feels so surreal to have Sokka overtop of him, his chest nearly flush against his as he pounds relentlessly into him. The sheer force of his each thrust has the headboard banging against the wall. Zuko stops fighting the urge to suppress his moans through a tight jaw and lets every sound of pleasure spill from his mouth, crying out a tangled string of high pitched whines and broken expletives. 

“ _Shit—_ “ Sokka buries his head in Zuko’s shoulder. “You feel so fucking _good—_ so fucking _perfect_ for me.”

Zuko can barely get a word out. He’s too busy drowning in the all encompassing feeling of being split open on Sokka’s cock. Sokka pauses to pull Zuko’s ankles over his shoulders and leans forward. He slams back in and lets his head fall back, a groan tearing from his throat at the sheer intensity of the new angle. 

“Zuko— _shit!”_ Sokka’s hips pick up, fucking him into the mattress. “You’re so _tight—“_

He pulls out nearly entirely, letting the head of his cock rub against Zuko’s prostate with every thrust back in. Zuko practically _screams,_ straining his voice so much it cracks with desperation. 

“Oh _God!”_ He cries out. “ _Please!_ Like that— _just like that!”_

Sokka obliges him, savoring every moment as he watches Zuko come undone before his eyes. Every second is _mindblowing_ . Every thrust has Zuko clenching around his cock and threatens to push him over the edge if he doesn’t concentrate hard enough. The way Zuko’s barely coherent and digging his nails into Sokka’s back so hard it nearly draws blood is _exhilarating._ Zuko’s golden eyes are glazed over with pleasure, barely visible behind fluttering eyelids and thick lashes. Never in a million years had Sokka thought he’d be in this position, but he’s thanking every deity in the heavens for blessing him with this opportunity. 

“ _Zuko,_ fuck-- _baby,_ you’re driving me _crazy.”_ He moans, kissing his neck. Zuko’s broken response barely leaves his lips before Sokka wedges his arm in between them, gripping his cock to jerk him at a rapid pace. “I wanna see you come for me again. I _need_ to see that incredible fucking face you make.” 

Zuko’s back arches violently, his body arrested with arousal. _“SOKKA!”_

“Come on, I know you can.” He tells him between deep, hard thrusts. “Let it all out, let me hear you--” 

Every muscle in Zuko’s body seizes. He slams his eyes shut, moaning with what little voice he has left. White spots burst behind his eyelids as he lets his orgasm overtake him, his body shaking with each rope of cum that paints his stomach. Sokka’s hips never relent, fucking him fully through each wave of his climax. His head hurts from being overstimulated, but the pain is worth every second. It pushes his brain past the point of registering his surroundings and Zuko falls apart completely, his mind dazed with every mind numbing thrust.

Sokka finally snaps, his eyes clamping shut and jaw hanging open as his own climax consumes him. He loses full control of his own volume, moaning a loud string of “fuck, fuck, _fuck’s”_ before Zuko’s name as his voice finally cracks. He knows that he’s already fucked Zuko into a withering mess of nerves, but it feels almost involuntary as he slams into him-- one, two, _three times_ until he’s spilling into the condom. His abdomen feels like it’s on fire, all but eating him alive from the inside out. The slow coast down from his high makes Sokka collapse fully on top of Zuko, panting like he’s just won a marathon. 

They stay like that for a moment, collecting themselves and letting the last few waves of euphoria fizzle out. Sokka slowly lifts his head up, his expression spent and face red from over-exertion. 

“Holy _shit._ ” 

Zuko opens his eyes, lazily meeting Sokka’s gaze. “Ditto.” 

Sokka pushes himself up onto his arms with the little strength he can muster. “How the hell are you this perfect? How do you manage to drain out every ounce of my soul whenever we do this?”

Zuko blushes faintly, chuckling softly as he shrugs. “Like I said before, practice.” 

Sokka lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls off of him, flopping down onto the cool, untouched sheets beside him. “How many more practice rounds do we have, by the way? I’m worried you might wear me out before we even get a chance to stream.” 

Zuko turns his head. “Well, I’m ready when you are.” 

“Awesome, fantastic, wonderful.” Sokka says. “I’m ready. I think I’ve got a pretty good grip on what gets you going now.” 

“I could say the same for you, Mr. ‘Say-pretty-please-or-you’ll-never-come’.”

“Alright _listen,”_

“I’m kidding, Sokka. I like it.” Zuko smirks. “Even if I am kind of being a brat about it.” 

Sokka smiles back, letting his head sink into the pillow. “Glad to hear it.” 

A familiar silence falls between them, but it doesn’t hold the same heavy presence it had the previous time. It’s lighter, _warmer_ , even. Neither of them feel the unrelenting urge to disperse before things grow awkward. There isn’t a scramble to say “good-night” and avoid drawing things out unnecessarily. They both simply lay there, quietly basking in the afterglow cast over the room. 

Sokka looks back over at Zuko, studying his face. “Hey, Zuko?” 

He glances back. “Yeah?” 

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Sokka asks. “I feel like my legs might give out if I try to stand up.” 

Zuko looks surprised, but not bewildered. “Oh, uh--” 

“I totally get it if that’s not okay--” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” He tells him. “I don’t mind.” 

Sokka feels his heart flutter, but he stifles the butterflies that creep up. “Cool, thanks.” He says. “I’ll stay on my side of the bed, I promise.” 

Zuko rolls his eyes. “Sokka, you don’t have to do that. I get it if you want to cuddle.” 

Sokka’s eyes widen, blinking furiously as his cheeks burn. “I mean, that’s what I normally do after sex, but you know, it’s not a _requirement--_ ” 

“Oh, shut up.” Zuko reaches over him, pulling his arm across his side as he coaxes Sokka into being the big spoon. “Really, I don’t mind. I haven’t cuddled with someone in...well, a while, and I kind of miss it _.”_

Sokka resists the urge to protest and instead settles into the groove of Zuko’s back, pulling him closer as he lets himself relax. 

“Yeah, me too, honestly.” He mumbles, nuzzling his face into soft, dark locks. “Mm, your hair. Smells good. Fruity.” 

“Thanks.” Zuko murmurs back, closing his eyes. “It’s jasmine and pear.” 

Sokka inhales softly, letting the scent’s floral notes relax him. “ ‘S really nice, keep using it.” 

Zuko chuckles. “Sure thing, ‘Your Royal Bossiness’.” 

“ _Hush._ You can be snarky in the morning.” 

They’d both underestimated how much the night's events had sapped away their energy. Within a few minutes, Zuko hears Sokka snoring quietly into his hair, holding him close as if he plans to escape. Zuko lets his hand slip over Sokka’s, slowly stroking his palm with his thumb as he takes in the sensation of being held so closely. It’s such a faint memory in his mind that the comforting warmth of Sokka’s skin against his back soothes his mind, lulling him gently until he feels his consciousness finally ebb away.

  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays my dudes. Updates are taking longer for me bc life/work/animating etc, but nonetheless I hope yall enjoy chp 11. <3

“Taro Bubble Tea for Jen!” 

Zuko sets the drink down at the pick up counter, his eyes scanning the dining room for the patron. He furrows his brow, confused at the empty tables before him. There had definitely been a brightly clad college student sitting by the window the last moment that he’d looked up. The seat he’d seen them occupy was now empty, however, and Zuko can’t wrap his head around how this woman seemed to disappear so quickly. 

He hears the sound of wheels squeaking against the hardwood and turns his head to see Teo rolling towards the counter, reaching out to grab the ownerless drink. 

“I think she went to the bathroom.” He says, examining the contents of the cup. “What is this, anyway? Boba?” 

Zuko sticks his tongue out, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it is.” 

Teo scoffs. “That was a pretty strong reaction. You don’t like it?” 

“Of course I don’t, it’s disgusting.” He replies, folding his arms. “Why would I want chewy tea?” 

“That’s kind of the whole point, Zuko.” 

“Exactly. I don’t need a drink with extra steps.” 

Teo snickers. “Right, because chewing is just the hardest thing in the world, huh?” 

Zuko narrows his eyes as Teo continues cackling, tauntingly swishing around the drink. “I’m not taking criticism from someone who dumps two cups of sugar into his tea.” 

“So? You drink black coffee. I’d argue that that’s just as bad.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I’m  _ dead  _ serious.” He replies. “What kind of an insane person do you have to be to drink concentrated bitterness and enjoy it?” 

Zuko grimaces. “The kind that’s willing to take their thirty during the lunch rush just to prove a point.” 

Teo inhales through his teeth, placing the drink back down and holding his hands up. “If you’re gonna play dirty, then I’ll back off.” 

Zuko smirks triumphantly, turning away as he goes to wipe up the residue of spilled milk and sugar syrup on the counter. It’d become rare for him to work shifts with Teo. Zuko typically worked the early shift while Teo always insisted that he was in  _ no way  _ a morning person, and having him come in before ten would be disastrous. The shop didn’t really need a dining room attendant until after the breakfast rush anyway, so Iroh usually obliged his requests. 

Zuko does like working with him, though. He’s one of the more dedicated employees among the handful that Iroh had hired since the shop opened. It’s refreshing for him to not have to constantly go behind the employees that slacked, not to mention being the default person to cover their callouts. 

Zuko hooks the rag in his hand over his apron pocket and glances down as his phone vibrates next to it, discreetly removing it to check who’d messaged him. Iroh  _ is  _ only a brisk walk away in his office. He had a tendency to appear almost out of thin air and gently tell his employees to put their phones away. 

He has a handful of messages from Sokka, which isn’t at all surprising. They’d been chatting pretty frequently about their upcoming stream together. Zuko had been pleasantly surprised at Sokka’s investment in making their first performance a good one; he’d prepared himself to do most of the work to make sure things went off without a hitch. 

Zuko swipes to unlock his phone and scans through the texts Sokka’s sent.

**_Sokka: “Okay good news, my tests came back and I’m clean as a whistle.”_ **

He breathes a sigh of relief looking over the screenshot Sokka’s sent along with it. He scours his email for the results of his own test and promptly sends them back.

**_Zuko: “Good, me too. I hate condoms.”_ **

**_Sokka: “Really? I feel like if anything you’d prefer it. It seems less messy.”_ **

Zuko types out a response, letting his thumb hover hesitantly over the enter key before pressing send. 

**_Zuko: “Let’s just say that if I have the choice between having latex or bare skin in my mouth, I’m picking the latter.”_ **

**_Sokka: “You know, that’s completely understandable. I don’t think ‘balloon’ is a flavor I’d like either.”_ **

**_Sokka: “On another note, do you think it matters what I wear?_ **

**_Sokka: “Like, I know we’re probably not gonna be clothed for that long, but you’re the expert here.”_ **

Zuko glances over his shoulder before quickly replying. 

**_Zuko: “It depends. I only wear special outfits if I’m pandering to a specific kink or something.”_ **

The typing bubble appears and disappears for a few seconds before Sokka texts back. 

**_Sokka: “Are we gonna do something like that?”_ **

**_Zuko: “...Do you want to?”_ **

**_Sokka: “Maybe. What kind of kinks are we talkin’?”_ **

Zuko feels his cheeks go hot. The mild embarrassment he’d normally feel about discussing his sexual side had dissipated a lot as they talked more about it, but he’s not exactly sure if he’s confident enough to tell Sokka about the....well,  _ many  _ things he’s discovered he’s into over the past few years. 

**_Zuko: “Uh.”_ **

**_Zuko: “Maybe we should just keep it simple.”_ **

He knows Sokka can probably tell he’s dodging the question, and his suspicions are confirmed the moment he replies.

**_Sokka: “Lol.”_ **

**_Sokka: “You’re into some freaky shit, aren’t you?”_ **

Zuko blushes harder. He’s not  _ wrong _ , but he doesn’t want to admit that just yet. 

**_Sokka: “Just so you know, I’m not a saint in that department either, but we can keep it simple if you want to.”_ **

**_Zuko: “I think it’d be easiest for the first time, but that is good to know. For future reference.”_ **

Sokka sends back a thumbs up. 

**_Sokka: “Whatever you feel is best, Zuko dearest.”_ **

**_Sokka: “Just let me know when you’re ready for me to tie you up or something, lmao.”_ **

Zuko’s eyes go wide upon reading those words and his gaze cuts to the wall, focusing on nothing but the mental image of Sokka on top of him while he’s restrained. He absolutely should  _ not  _ be thinking about this at work and he’s almost annoyed with Sokka for planting the idea in his head. Zuko shifts uncomfortably back and forth on his feet, suddenly very thankful that he’s wearing a knee-length apron. 

“Texting someone special?” 

Zuko jumps at the voice that cuts through his fantasy and whips his head around to see Teo inches from the counter, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. Zuko fixes his mouth into a straight line, instantly mortified at the fact that he has absolutely no clue how long Teo has been watching him. He’s also quickly reminded of one thing he  _ doesn’t  _ love about working with Teo: he’s nosy as  _ hell _ , regardless of whether or not he always means to be. 

“No. Just Sokka.” 

Zuko immediately freezes at his own words. Why in the  _ fuck  _ would he say that? He knows that the answer is automatic and it normally wouldn’t warrant any concern, but he physically felt himself blushing like an idiot the entire time they’d been texting. Knowing that Sokka was on the other end of that conversation most likely did nothing but confuse Teo even more.

He raises his eyebrows. “What in the world are you guys talking about that’s making you blush like that?”

Zuko stares blankly back at him, hastily scraping together the best lie he can to allay Teo’s suspicions. 

“Nothing. I’m just hot.” He says. “I think my uncle set the heat a little higher than it needs to be.” 

It’s such a bullshit answer, but it might hold just enough truth to seem believable. It’s late November and he is wearing a few layers after all. He isn’t sweating buckets, but he certainly isn’t cold by any means. 

Teo blinks back at him, visibly unconvinced. “Huh, funny. I don’t feel anything.”

Zuko glances away, rubbing the side of his neck. “I mean, yeah. You probably don’t-- it’s just me. I think it’s genetic or something. Everyone in my family runs really...hot.” 

He thinks that maybe if he beats around the bush long enough, Teo will lose interest. To Zuko’s dismay, however, he looks as if he has all the time in the world to pry deeper into his lie.

“Hey Zuko,”

“...Yeah?” 

“Move your hand.” 

He doesn’t quite understand at first, but the moment it clicks, Zuko goes white. Sokka had marked his neck so flagrantly with hickies during their last encounter that Zuko had to dig the few tacky, collared button-ups he owned out of his closet to cover them up. He’d thought by now that they’d faded enough to not be noticeable from a distance, but he’d still worn a collared shirt just to be safe. Zuko’s first button had come undone at some point, however, and Teo had apparently caught a glimpse of the marks peppering the bottom of his neck. 

“....Why?” Zuko asks.

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t want to.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Does it  _ matter?”  _

Teo pauses for a second and then shrugs, sitting back in his chair. “I guess not.” Zuko's sense of relief is fleeting when he quips out another remark. “But dude, I’ve seen you zone out like three separate times today, and I’ve only been here for two hours. You can’t blame me for being curious.” 

Zuko doesn’t want to admit it, but he has a point. He knows his spaciness is out of character, and he’s  _ trying  _ to focus on a task without his thoughts pulling him away from what he’s doing. The image of Sokka intruding his mind every thirty seconds however, sends him stumbling back into a blank, unwavering stare down with the peeling wallpaper across the cafe. It’s disorienting. He hasn’t been this scatterbrained for a  _ while.  _ Zuko can’t pinpoint the feeling it’s giving him, but either way, he wishes it would rear its head at a less inconvenient time. 

His recent memories of Sokka are tangible. He can still feel his skin pressed against his, the feeling of his face nuzzled in his hair as they drifted off into sleep, even the faint taste of coconut vodka on his lips from when they’d first kissed. Zuko can’t say that he didn’t replay those moments over and over again. It induced a euphoric, calm feeling in him to think about being that close to someone— 

Being that close to  _ Sokka.  _

It’s a muddied mess of emotions in his mind that he’s putting off picking apart for as long as he can. There’s a slight haze forming over the line between their relationship being strictly professional and, well, something else. Zuko’s not  _ entirely _ sure, but he certainly isn’t about to try and figure out what it is right now. 

“Nephew,” 

He jumps, banging his knee on the mini fridge below the counter as he swears under his breath. He stifles the massive amount of pain he’s actually in and clutches the counter instead, turning to see his uncle standing by with a box in tow. 

“Uncle! Hi, um— did you need something?” 

Iroh sets it down on the counter and unfolds the top, lifting out a few brightly colored boxes of varying sizes. He motions for Zuko to come closer and hands him a box, lining the rest out alongside the others. 

“Our last shipment of holiday flavors came in last night.” Iroh says, smiling. “I was finally able to secure some of that peppermint vanilla tea I had been eyeing for ages now.” 

Zuko smiles back, examining the box in his hand. “That’s great! I know how much you wanted it for last year's holiday menu.” 

“It’s wonderful. I don’t think any other cafe in this area has this particular flavor in stock.” Iroh looks over towards the brewers. “I know it is early in the season, but I’d like to offer samples to the next few customers that come in. I think it will serve us well to know what our clientele think of it.” 

“Oh, yeah. I can make some sample cups.” Zuko brings the box over to the brewers, carefully measuring out a batch of loose leaf tea before dumping it into the basket. “I haven’t tried this either. I’m excited to see what all the fuss is about.” 

“It will not disappoint, I can assure you of that.” 

Iroh glances over in his nephew’s direction, quietly observing him as he starts the tea brewer. Zuko’s tea making skills are swift and poised from years of experience; he lets it steep for a few aimless minutes before lifting the pot of now flaxen colored liquid. He slides over the nearest tea mugs and pours the both of them a cup, minimally adding sugar to his before lifting it to his mouth.

Iroh takes his tea with a warm smile and sips at it, letting out a satiated sigh. “Even more delicious than I remember.” 

“It  _ is  _ good.” Zuko replies, smiling back. “I’m sure it’ll be a hit this season.”

Iroh nods and his eyes search his nephew’s, studying them carefully. “You know, Zuko, it may just be an old man’s intuition, but it seems like you might have someone special in your life right now.”

Zuko flinches. “ _ I’m sorry?” _

Iroh chuckles. “You flourish with the proper companionship. It seems only reasonable that you’ve been keeping good company around.” 

Zuko furrows his brow, his expression mildly distraught. “Do you legitimately think that?” 

“I think I have spent enough time around my own nephew to know when butterflies are fluttering in his chest.” 

Zuko blinks furiously, his eyes darting nervously around the cafe. “That’s a cute theory, but I’m not seeing anyone right now Uncle.” 

“I didn’t say that you were.” Iroh takes another sip of his own tea, smiling warmly. “Just because you are not formally ‘seeing anyone’, does not mean that those butterflies are any less restless inside you. You’ve been quite distracted over the past few days. I’ve seen it time and time again when someone new comes into your life.”

Zuko has no idea what to say. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Iroh was observant almost to a fault, and trying to hide anything at all from him was a feat in and of itself. It’s mostly his phrasing that catches Zuko off guard.  _ ‘Butterflies’.  _ He and Sokka were sleeping together; and that was it. Is he  _ really  _ giving off that vibe? It was already bad enough that Teo caught him blushing like an idiot several times today. Now Iroh’s telling him that he’s sporting the air of a schoolgirl with a crush. 

Zuko raises the tea to his lips again. “...I don’t know what it is that’s making you think that, but -- again-- there’s no one new in my life right now. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. That’s all.” 

Iroh keeps his eyes on Zuko for a few more seconds, breaking his gaze with a light chuckle. He turns to lift the box off the counter and starts towards the back room, glancing over his shoulder before passing through the doorway.

“Whatever you say, nephew.” He tells him. “You know, this building is nearly a century old. The floors are  _ very  _ thin, and if I didn't have my biwa music to keep me company some nights, I’d hear every sound that ever came out of your apartment.” 

The puzzle pieces quickly click into place in Zuko’s mind and his eyes go wide, the mouthful of steaming tea getting caught in the back of his throat. An involuntary cough rips through his chest and he struggles to get his bearings, his hand gripping onto his neck as he tries to remember how to breathe. Iroh disappears into the back room before Zuko can even say anything back. He stares at the space where he’d stood, haunted by the realization he’s just come to. 

It takes nearly a minute for him to settle back into reality, shaking his head before snatching his phone back out of his pocket. He unlocks it at lightning speed, rapidly typing out a text to Sokka.

**_Zuko: “Actually, forget what I said before. We can use a gag. I have a few we can pick from.”_ **

Sokka replies quickly, clearly waiting by his phone. 

**_Sokka: “That was a quick turn around, lol. Sure, I’m down.”_ **

Zuko’s lips tighten into a thin line as he types out his response. 

**_Zuko: “Yeah, I know. I just,”_ **

**_Zuko: “I think we could benefit from uh.”_ **

**_Zuko: “Being a little quieter when we do stuff.”_ **

Sokka sends a laughing emote before texting back. 

**_Sokka: “Good luck with that, Champ.”_ **

Zuko rolls his eyes and locks his phone, shoving it back into his apron. He’s been there since six and he’s got two hours left in his shift. Hopefully he can get through it without setting off Teo’s suspicions again or getting lost in the minutia of his and Sokka’s cam debut. 

  
  


* * *

****

Sokka turns over in his bed as he cracks his eyes open, blinking himself awake as the weary haze clears from his eyes. He scans the room around him and immediately searches for the clock, stopping when he catches it in his periphery. 

**_11:08 P.M._ **

Sokka squints, turning his head fully to make sure he’s reading it correctly.  _ ‘Fuck’,  _ he thinks, groaning as he rubs his face. He barely remembers falling asleep, but knows it must’ve happened not too long after he’d gotten home from work. He recalls kicking off his work boots and stripping off his uniform, convincing himself that he was only going to rest his eyes for maybe half an hour or so. 

_ That _ was at 7:00 P.M. 

Sokka attempts to fight the drowsiness that’s enticing him back into another few hours of slumber. His sleep schedule for the next day or so is already going to be fucked up from taking such a late nap. He doesn’t need to ‘rest his eyes’ only to be wide awake at 3 A.M. as a result.

Sokka sits up, slowly letting himself roll out of bed and untangle his limbs from the sheets. His bare feet hit the hardwood and he trudges out of his room, rubbing his eyes to clear up his vision. He doesn’t expect to see the kitchen light on. If anyone did any late night cooking in the apartment, it was  _ him,  _ and he can clearly smell a hint of gas from the stove wafting through the hall. 

Sokka walks over and pokes his head in the doorway, his brows high as he sees Zuko by the stove, aimlessly rocking back and forth to the music from his headphones. Sokka can barely hear it, but recognizes enough of the muffled lyrics to be able to pinpoint what Zuko’s listening to. He stands still in the doorway, fascinated by the display before him. Zuko clearly can’t tell that he’s there; especially given that his music is so loud even  _ Sokka  _ can hear it. 

He leans against the doorframe and folds his arms, a grin spreading across his face as Zuko dances seemingly without a care in the world. He sways to the beat of the song, his light movements quickly growing into a full on  _ performance.  _ Zuko’s socks glide along the floor as he reaches to turn up the burner, spinning in a full circle with tightly closed eyes. He grabs their wooden spatula off the stovetop, holding it up to his mouth as he carols along with the song.

Sokka’s eyes grow wide. He’s never heard Zuko sing, not even  _ once  _ during their four years of knowing each other. It catches him off guard to suddenly realize Zuko actually has a really nice singing voice; the slight rasp of his normal speaking tone carries over to it as well, apparently. On top of all of that, Sokka’s heard the song Zuko’s listening to before, and he knows that eighty percent of it is in  _ Spanish.  _ Here Zuko was, revealing yet  _ another  _ hidden talent of which Sokka hadn’t the slightest inkling. 

Sokka can’t help himself at this point. He creeps across the kitchen, stopping just a few steps away from Zuko’s turned back. He waits patiently for a lull in the music, just so he  _ knows  _ Zuko can hear him. 

_ “What are you made of, Yeah, that’s something that I like~” _

Zuko practically jumps out of his own skin, yelling in terror as he stumbles back away from the stove. Sokka bursts out laughing, nearly doubling over as he clutches his sides. Zuko’s back hits the fridge and he rips off his headphones, panting as he gawks back at Sokka. 

“What the  _ fuck _ , Sokka?!” He exclaims, trying to catch his breath. “Why the hell would you sneak up on me like that?”

“Because I wanted to see if I could turn your little concert into a duet.” Sokka replies, trying to compose himself. “Truly an amazing performance, you deserve a standing ovation.” 

Zuko glowers and pouts. “I thought you were asleep.” 

“I was, but apparently the universe woke me up just in time to get a front row seat to the show.” 

Sokka raises a brow. “Speaking of which, I didn’t know you spoke Spanish, Zuko! That’s awesome! You sound like you’re fluent.”

He blinks, his heart rate settling down as he clears his throat. “I’m not fluent, not anymore, at least.” He says. “I went to fancy private schools all my life. They were hellbent on making their students ‘well rounded’ or whatever, so I took Spanish through almost all of it.”

Surprise washes over Sokka’s face. “Wow, now that’s dedication. I took Italian for three years and I remember absolutely none of it.” 

Zuko cracks a smile, chuckling. “Learning a language is like a muscle. If you don’t use it you lose it.” 

“Oh it’s  _ more  _ than lost, Zukes.” He says. “The void where Italian used to be in my brain is so huge that I’m actually forgetting English now too.” 

Zuko can’t hide his snicker, and it draws a grin out of Sokka too. He leans against the counter and wriggles his brows, a teasing tone brimming in his voice. 

“What? No ‘Shut up, Sokka’ or, ‘you’re so fucking stupid, Sokka’?” 

Zuko glances over at him. “...Sometimes you’re actually funny, okay? I’ll cut you some slack today.” 

Sokka feigns excitement, dramatically clutching his chest. “Such a merciful pillow prince, thank you  _ oh _ so much for your graciousness—“ 

Zuko whips his head around. “I am  _ not  _ a pillow prince!” 

“ _ Yeah _ , you are.” 

“ _ No _ , I’m not—“ 

“Do I have to remind you of what you were like during our last practice round?” Zuko opens his mouth to speak, but Sokka quickly cuts him off. “Hold on, I think I can do a good impression—“ 

“Sokka, I swear to  _ God—“  _

He doesn’t listen. Instead he leans back further against the counter and tosses his head back, closing his eyes as he lets out a dramatic and loud moan. 

_ “ ‘Oh God, Sokka! Please! Fuck me harder! I need it!’.” _

Zuko shoves his shoulder. “I didn’t say that!” 

“You might as well have.” Sokka scoffs. “I  _ do _ remember for a fact that you screamed my name like, twenty times, and honestly? That was pretty fucking hot. Definitely an A+ effort on your part.” 

Zuko narrows his eyes and stares back at him with a lowered brow, unamused as Sokka grins.

“Oh I know this look. That’s your ‘I know you’re right but I don’t wanna admit it’ face, am I right?” 

Zuko rolls his eyes again and turns away, casually poking a fork into the boiling pot of ramen on the stove. “At least I’m not the one who nearly had an aneurysm when he put his dick in someone’s ass.”

Sokka chokes on his own breath, scrambling toward a rebuttal. “Excuse me! If anything, that’s a  _ compliment _ . Whatever you’ve got going on back there,” he gestures to Zuko’s butt, “is dangerous, and I’m  _ kind of  _ afraid of it, to be honest.” 

Zuko mumbles something under his breath that Sokka can’t quite make out, but he’s sure he’s heard the words “say the same” and “your dick” somewhere in what Zuko said. 

“ _ Hmm? _ ” Sokka asks, leaning in closer. “What was that?” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Zuko tells him, turning off the stove before carrying the pot over to the sink.

“Okay, my memory may be shit, but my hearing isn’t,” Sokka says, following after him. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“I said I didn’t say anything, Sokka.” Zuko replies irritably. “Just drop it already.” 

Sokka raises an eyebrow as he watches him carefully drain the liquid off his ramen, eyeing him knowingly as he runs cold water over it. Sokka waits a second, pondering whether or not he actually wants to pester Zuko in the way he’s imagining. The decision is quick after the phrase “fuck it” runs through his mind. Sokka scoots closer to Zuko, leaning down to speak lowly into his ear. 

“ _ Come on baby, speak up for me—“ _

Zuko jolts and he drops the pot in the sink, the loud clang of aluminum against stainless steel startling him even more. Sokka takes a step back as Zuko whips around, his cheeks red and eyes out for blood. 

Sokka cups his own cheek, smiling mischievously. “Awww, Zuko, did  _ I  _ make you blush like that?” 

He glares over at him. “You  _ suck _ , you know that?”

Sokka clicks his tongue and grins, shooting him a finger gun, “Right back atcha, if you know what I mean.” 

“I— okay, I’m done with this.” Zuko reaches to slide his headphones back on. “All I wanted was to make something to eat, and now you’re in here  _ tormenting _ me—“ 

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on!” Sokka lightly grabs his wrist. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. But I’m done, I swear.

Zuko scoffs, narrowing his eyes distrustfully. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, I am.” Sokka draws an ‘x’ over his heart. “No more unfair uses of your pet name kink, I promise.” 

Zuko doesn’t look especially convinced, but he doesn’t say anything else. Sokka lets go of his wrist and takes a step back, letting a beat pass before he looks down at the few servings of noodles in the pot. “Sooo, whatcha got planned for that?” 

Zuko shrugs, moving to empty them into a nearby bowl. “The seasoning packet? I don’t know; nothing fancy.” He immediately regrets saying that and pauses, noting Sokka’s sudden silence before he looks back at him. “Sokka, don’t—“ 

“Okay, just hear me out—“

“I’m hungry  _ now.”  _ He tells him, shielding the bowl with his body. “I don’t have the patience to wait for you to transform my dinner into some five star restaurant dish.” 

“First of all, I would hardly say that counts as dinner, Zuko.” Sokka starts, pointing to it. “Second of all, ramen has like, zero nutritional value. You’re gonna eat that and be hungry again in an hour.” 

Zuko looks at him incredulously. “ _ Excuse _ me? I watched you inhale like four of those leftover pastries I brought up from the tea shop last night, and now you want to lecture  _ me  _ on what is and isn’t nutritious?” 

“Okay, fair point, but in my defense, those red bean buns are my kryptonite and you guys  _ never  _ have leftovers at the end of the night. You can’t blame me for going a little crazy when I saw them.” 

Zuko’s eyes search Sokka’s face as he looks tiredly back at him, eventually letting out a deep sigh. “What do you have in mind?” 

Sokka instantly lights up, speeding over to the fridge to throw it open. “I’m glad you asked!” 

He squats to rummage through the crisper drawers, pulling out a myriad of vegetables along with a few miscellaneous jars that Zuko can’t identify from far away. He closes the door with his hip and skitters back over to the island, dumping the contents of his arms onto the countertop. 

“Grab the cutting board for me.” 

Zuko glances around the kitchen until he spots it hanging on the pot and pan rack, setting it beside Sokka as he pulls a few cooking utensils from the drawers below. 

“I made this a while back and forgot to write the recipe down, so I’m gonna try to replicate it as best I can.” Sokka says, sliding a bunch of scallions over to Zuko. “Here, chop these for me. Finely.” 

Zuko takes hold of the knife on the counter and places the onions on the cutting board, fiddling with a comfortable angle to hold them at before bringing the blade down. Sokka’s gotten out a bowl and measuring spoons before Zuko can even process it, now measuring out a cocktail of various sauces and spices before furiously whisking them together. He’s always taken aback at how quickly Sokka works in the kitchen. His skill at pairing the right flavors seems almost instinctual at this point, as if he never had to give a second thought as to what to add. Sokka begins whisking a dark, viscous sauce in the bowl before he glances over at Zuko’s progress, halting when he notices his concerning technique. 

“....Zuko,” 

He pauses, looking up from the cutting board. “Yeah?” 

“....How often do you...chop things?” 

Zuko gives him a confused look. “Why?” 

Sokka lets go of the whisk, clearing his throat. “Because the way you’re using that knife is making me anxious.” 

Zuko’s eyes roll, landing back on Sokka with an annoyed groan. “Do you  _ have _ to micromanage me?” 

“I’m not trying to. The way you’re using it is  _ genuinely _ not safe.” He tells him. “You never cut towards yourself, always away.” 

“Okay? Is this better?” Zuko asks, switching the direction. 

“No, because now you’re cutting towards your  _ other _ hand.” Sokka takes a step back. “Here, just let me show you.” 

He walks closer to Zuko, reaching around his back to take hold of his hands. He straightens out his fingers and presses them into the top of the blade, holding it down flush to the board as he rotates Zuko’s other hand. 

“Like this,” Sokka guides Zuko’s hands, finely chopping the scallions. “This way, you don't risk the knife slipping and slicing your fingers.” 

Zuko blinks, watching Sokka’s hands wrap around his own. The feeling of Sokka’s chest pressed firmly against his back makes Zuko inhale through his nose, as he finds comfort in the warmth of Sokka’s embrace. He smells faintly of a sea breeze; something Zuko hadn’t noticed until he’d come this close. He’d normally find the scent overwhelming (he’d spent enough dinners at his uncle’s to be well acquainted with the nearly offensive aroma of an oil diffuser), but he doesn’t right now. It’s hushed against Sokka’s skin and flutters through Zuko’s nose, relaxing him as he unknowingly leans back into his hold. 

Sokka pauses, his eyes going a bit wide at the sudden sensation of Zuko pressing into him. He feels his face go hot and battles in his head whether or not to pull him even closer. The urge is intense and he doesn’t know what to do, fearing the possible consequences of acting on it. 

But...Zuko  _ had _ initiated this after all-- it couldn’t be disastrous.

Sokka swallows anxiously as he releases his grip on Zuko’s hand to cautiously wrap his arm around his waist, gently tugging him back and nuzzling his face in his soft, dark hair. He hears Zuko gasp quietly and tense up, immediately prompting him to let go. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Sokka apologizes, backing away nervously. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Zuko turns to face him, now giving Sokka a full view of his bright pink cheeks. “Uh— I—“ 

“It won’t happen again, I promise—“ 

“No, no— Sokka, it’s okay.” Zuko says, earning a surprised look. “I, um, I get it.” 

He furrows his brows. “You  _ do?  _ You froze when I did that—“ 

“I know I did. It just caught me off guard.” Zuko replies. “I didn’t mind. I promise.” His eyes drop towards the floor. “Like I said after we, you know, had  _ sex _ . I haven’t been that close to anyone in a while.”

Sokka looks shocked. “Really? Are you sure?” 

Zuko nods. “Yeah. I mean— I’m okay with it if you are.” He glances up. “It feels nice to be held again.” 

Sokka’s heart flutters in his chest, flooding his body with the same warmth he’d felt when he’d just discovered his feelings for Zuko. He reaches up to run a hand through his hair, chuckling bashfully as he smiles back. 

“Yeah, sure. I’m totally okay with it.” He says. “I’m in the same boat. I’m a huge cuddler and I do miss it a lot.” 

“Um, great then. We can help each other out.” Zuko replies. 

“I mean, we’re already fucking. We might as well.”

Zuko laughs through his nose, focusing back on the cutting board. “Yeah, that’s a fair point.” 

“I agree.” Sokka steps back over to his original place. “So in  _ my  _ humble opinion, I think making up for lost snuggling time is more than reasonable.” 

Zuko nods. “Of course. It’s totally understandable,” he brings the knife down on the scallions’ white ends. “Everyone needs physical contact every once in a while.” 

“Exactly, and I— Zuko!” Sokka reaches to quickly pivot his wrist. “ _ Away  _ from your hand.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” He says, following Sokka’s direction. “We can’t all be master chefs like you.” 

“First off, thank you for the compliment,” Sokka replies, smiling. “Second off, maybe not, but we  _ can _ all learn basic knife safety.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The ramen is phenomenal. Zuko’s annoyance with having to power through his hunger quickly dissipates the moment he hands him a fork wrapped with glistening amber noodles and vibrant green onions. Zuko feels like he should be used to Sokka’s refined cooking skills by now, but thinking of them in comparison to his own, he can’t help but be in awe at every transformed dish. 

They end up standing by the stove, chatting with one another until both of their bowls are left with nothing but sesame seeds and oil. It surprises Zuko. He’s never one to stomach large portions of food at once, but enjoying Sokka’s company made whatever other task he’d been trying to do at the moment completely irrelevant. 

Sokka takes both of their bowls and tosses them into the dishwasher, briefly chastising Zuko for shoving the detergent all the way in the back of the cabinet. They both laugh and settle easily into a brief silence, studying one another carefully before speaking up. 

“Um, so, I cleaned up my room for once.” Sokka starts, chuckling. “It was getting to the point where even  _ I  _ couldn’t function in it.” 

“Wow, that says a lot.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He replies, scoffing knowingly. “But, that being said, if you still wanted to cuddle or whatever, my bed’s actually pretty comfy when it’s not covered in clothes.” 

Zuko blushes faintly, his eyes wide and timid as he clears his throat. “Oh, yeah. Totally. I just can’t guarantee I won’t fall asleep while we do. I’m not usually up this late—“ 

Sokka scoffs as he stands. “That’s fine, Zukes. I wasn’t gonna kick you out the second my affection battery was full.” 

A small smile forms on his lips. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

They make their way back to Sokka’s room, immediately bathed in the tungsten glow of the dim string lights Sokka has above his bed. Zuko’s stunned when he sees his room. Sokka hadn’t been exaggerating at all: it’s nearly spotless. The floor, that is. The surfaces of his desk and dresser are still a touch cluttered with miscellaneous items, but it’s nowhere  _ near  _ as disorganized as it had been the last time Zuko had caught a glance of his room. 

_ “Wow,”  _ Zuko looks around, taking everything in. “I’m impressed. It looks great.” 

Sokka shrugs and closes the door with his free hand, following behind him. “I’m still excavating everything in my closet, but this is good for now. I’ll worry about that when I don’t have a week straight of nine hour shifts on the horizon.” 

Zuko chuckles softly and makes his way over to the bed, tucking his legs beneath him as he takes a seat close to the headboard. Sokka wastes no time flopping down next to him, outstretching his arms like a needy toddler. 

“Well? Get over here!” He says, smiling. “Like I said, I’m making up for lost time and your skin is super soft. Come on, bring it in.” 

Zuko snickers and scoots closer, blushing when Sokka pulls him between his lap. He wraps his arms around Zuko’s waists and leans forward against his back, sighing contentedly as he presses his face into his shoulder.

“Ah  _ yeah _ , that’s good stuff right there.” He says, briefly tugging him closer. “You’re perfect cuddling material.” 

Zuko relaxes into his hold, letting his inhibitions go to fully savor the feeling of Sokka’s embrace. “I think I could say the same for you.” 

“I’m glad you think so, because you’ll never be safe from a cuddle attack from me ever again.” Sokka tells him. “I’ll come down to the tea shop and tackle you if I have to.” 

Zuko snorts, and it’s the cutest noise Sokka’s ever heard from him. He instinctively covers his mouth and clears his throat, trying his best to play it off in the hopes that Sokka hadn’t noticed. 

“Oh my God—“ 

“Don’t, okay? It happens sometimes when I laugh. I’ve been trying to break the habit for years—“ 

“‘Break the habit’? Zuko, it’s adorable.” 

He looks at Sokka incredulously. “You’re joking.” 

“Of course I’m not.” Sokka insists. “It’s cute! I can’t believe I’ve never heard you laugh like that before. We’ve been friends for years.” 

Zuko’s embarrassment melts into a timid smile. “Like I said, I’ve been trying to stop doing it for a while. Usually I can keep it down, but I guess it just slipped out this time.” 

“Well, I love it, and you can count on me making dumb jokes regularly to try and force it out of hiding every now and again.” 

“‘Regularly’? You say that is if you don’t do that already.” Sokka opens his mouth to reply, but Zuko cuts him off as he glances down at his phone. “Shit, do you have a charger?” 

“Oh, yeah. I think I threw it in my nightstand.” Sokka replies, leaning over to pull open the drawer. “Half of me cleaning up was throwing my stuff anywhere that wasn’t the floor.” 

Zuko chuckles softly. “Baby steps, I guess.” 

Sokka wishes he’d put in the effort to actually organize everything. His nightstand was a tangled mess of wires and coins and anything else that happened to be in his cleaning path that day. He shuffles around every miscellaneous cord until he finally locates the charger, but not without going still at what lies underneath it.

His eyes fall on the same pile of sticky notes from Zuko’s room that he’d shoved in the drawer ages ago. Half torn and slightly crumpled is the note that had Zuko’s cam log-in information, resting atop the other notes as if to serve as a brutal reminder of what he’d done just weeks before. 

The sight before him makes his chest wrench with guilt. Not only from being inconsiderate enough to invade someone else’s privacy in the way that he had, but also  _ knowing  _ that he’s still holding on to this secret completely unbeknownst to Zuko. The attempt he’d made to come clean had long slipped away from the forefront of his mind ever since that drunken kiss. Their relationship had changed so rapidly that fessing up to what he’d done now felt nearly  _ impossible _ . 

Sokka’s mind brims with distress at the thought of what to do— there isn’t any way he can come out of this unscathed. He can’t even fathom the reaction Zuko might have by this point. The stakes are unbelievably higher than they ever had been between them. The truth coming out now spelled nothing but complete and utter chaos for the  _ both  _ of them. 

“Sokka? Did you find it?” 

He flinches, snapping out of his storm of thoughts at the sound of Zuko’s voice. He clears his throat and snatches the charger out of his drawer, throwing it shut as he leans back over. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Sokka says, handing it to Zuko. “I zoned out for a second. My bad.” 

Zuko shrugs and plugs his phone in, settling back against Sokka. “It’s pretty late. It makes sense that you’re tired.” 

Sokka isn’t, but he doesn’t protest. “...Yeah, I guess .” 

Zuko glances over his shoulder. “Everything okay?” 

“Uh, yeah, of course. Do I seem not okay?” 

He studies him briefly. “...For a second, but I guess I was just overthinking it.” 

Sokka feels a reply bubble in his throat, but he swallows it back down. He’d deal with this later, and soon. He promised himself that. In this moment however, sitting with Zuko between his thighs, resting his chest against his back and drinking in the deep sense of calm that being this close together instilled in him, he wants this one moment. A single second of peace and companionship was something precious that he’d forgotten after being single for so long. 

Instead of letting his anxiety overtake him, Sokka shoves it into the back of his mind. He tightens his embrace around Zuko’s waist and nuzzles his face in the loose strands of hair flitting around his neck. He takes in a deep breath and waits a moment before tenderly pressing a chaste kiss against Zuko’s skin. 

To his surprise, Zuko doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t pull away, he just sighs and lets his head rest back against Sokka’s shoulder. 

“This is nice.” He says quietly, letting his eyes fall closed. 

Sokka studies him before going in again, kissing the juncture of his collarbone and neck. 

“Yeah,” He mumbles softly. “It is.”   
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the beginning notes, chapter updates already have and for the foreseeable future will take me a while, and I appreciate everyone's support on this fic, so I'm giving yall the heads up that that's the case so far. (If you're a check every day for updates type of person, you can put this fic on the backburner lol). That being said, I just wanted to be transparent lol. But yeah, thank u guys as always for y'alls interest and support in this fic. It truly warms my little, gremlin heart <3


	12. Chapter 12

“So, you can come multiple times in a row? Like  _ legitimately?”  _

Zuko doesn’t look up from his laptop as he adjusts the camera perched above it. “Yeah.” 

“But...I don’t—  _ how?”  _ Sokka furrows his brows as he sits down on the bed, squinting in search of an answer. “I mean, it doesn’t take me that long to get it back up, but like, in a  _ row?  _ How does that even—“ 

“Sokka, I don’t know.” Zuko says irritably, clicking around his screen. “All I do know is that it’s not common and I can’t really control when it happens. Consider yourself lucky, I guess.” 

Sokka scoots closer to him, cocking his head as he looks him up and down. “That’s  _ fascinating.” _

He rolls his eyes, smirking a bit. “I’m sure you'll have fun with that tonight.” 

“Oh,  _ Zuko _ ,” Sokka leans in, grinning as he lowers his lids. “You have  _ no  _ idea.” 

His eyes cut up from the computer to give Sokka a measured glance, and all he gets in response is a wide, Cheshire grin. Zuko shakes his head and looks back to the screen, typing away as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Sokka is considerably more enthusiastic about the night’s stream than he is. Not so much in the sense that he’s not  _ excited _ for the two of them to finally be on camera together, but more so because he does this every week— sometimes twice if someone books a private show. The eagerness currently radiating off of Sokka is something Zuko hasn’t quite felt since he’d first started camming to begin with. 

Despite all this, he can’t lie and say that he’s not looking forward to finally having sex with Sokka again. Not being able to touch him in the way they had during their last practice round set Zuko on  _ edge.  _ This was all strictly business and they’d already had their ‘practice’ rounds. There wasn’t a need for them to fuck if they weren’t on camera, but  _ god,  _ did Zuko crave it. He wanted Sokka on top of him again, kissing his neck while he pounded into him senselessly, fucking him so hard he feels like he might pass out from the pleasure. 

There’s this nagging voice in the back of Zuko’s head that’s telling him to get his thirst in check. He’s had a good hold on it until now, he’s been patient and kept his hands to himself. Now that he’s  _ finally  _ got the chance to touch Sokka again, Zuko’s opting to ignore that voice  _ completely _ . 

“...So like, what does it feel like?” Sokka pesters on. “To come that much all at once—“ 

“It feels like I’m dying, but in a good way.” Zuko replies flatly, fiddling with the camera’s lense settings. “Is there anything else about me that you desperately want to know before we do this?” 

Sokka purses his lips, looking past Zuko as he ponders the question, snapping when an answer comes to mind. “Oh, um, yeah actually.” He says as he looks back. “So...I know you like being praised a lot during sex, which I thoroughly enjoy,  _ however _ ,” He trails off. “...How do you feel about being talked down to, out of curiosity?” 

The question swiftly draws Zuko’s attention. His head pivots away from troubleshooting any potential problems before the stream to focusing intently on Sokka, his eyes wide and locked on him. “...Are you into that sort of thing?” 

Sokka chuckles nervously as he rubs the back of his neck. “Zuko... ‘into it’ would be an understatement.” He says. “Let’s just say that the amount of times I had to resist calling you— um— a  _ slut _ , during our last practice round was uh,” He cracks a hesitant laugh. “ _ A lot.”  _

Zuko blinks vacantly back at him, digesting the information that Sokka’s shoved into his mind. He’s  _ incredibly  _ into it, despite somehow having a praise kink in addition to it. He never understood how he could get off to being called both “Angel” and “Slut”--it never made sense to him. But trying to pick apart the intricacies of how his hormone-fueled brain worked was tiresome if nothing else. He doesn’t really feel the need to right now anyway. Thinking of how the word “slut” would sound coming from that raspy, growl-like voice Sokka seemed to get midway through sex was enough to make Zuko bite his lip, all while his cock stiffens in his boxers. 

“Zuko?” 

He shakes his head, surfacing out of his thoughts. “Um, yeah. Sorry. I’m into it. Like, really into it.” 

Sokka takes a breath and smiles. “Phew, that’s a relief. You were looking at me like I was crazy.” 

“I was just thinking. It made me realize that it might help to have a safe word.” Zuko says. “I’m into to most things—”

“I gathered that, and the reason as to why you’re being so vague about what they are is confusing to me, but you probably have your reasons.” 

He lowers his brow. “A lot of them aren’t worth mentioning.” 

“Hmm, that sounds like code for ‘I don’t want Sokka to know how kinky I am.’—“ 

“Okay,  _ listen—“  _ Zuko’s mind blanks, unable to scrap together a proper defense. “You’ll find out eventually, alright? Is that good enough for you?” 

Sokka looks unconvinced, twirling his wrist. “Sure, whatever. So we need a safe word?” 

Zuko nods. “It would be helpful. Just so if we do need to slow down, we can let each other know without making the stream come to a full stop.” 

“Good point.” Sokka snaps his fingers. “How about ‘haiku’?” 

Zuko raises a brow. “Uh, okay. Interesting choice.” 

“Just trust me. It’s worked in the past.” 

“You’ve  _ needed _ a safe word in the past?” 

“Zuko, I keep telling you that I’m not a saint in bed either.” 

“I mean, I get that, but normally you only really need safe words for--” 

“Kinky sex.” Sokka cuts him off, smirking. “Yeah, I know, Zuko. That’s what I’m saying.” He puts a hand on his bare shoulder. “I can almost guarantee that whatever you’re into, I’m probably into too.” 

Zuko feels his skin tingle under Sokka’s touch. “That’s a bold assumption to make.” 

“I know, but I think I’m right.” He smirks. “Okay, how about this. I’m gonna do something really quickly that I’m into, and based on what I know about you, I think you’d enjoy too. If I’m wrong, then I’ll stop pestering you about it.” 

Zuko doesn’t necessarily want to entertain this little game of his, but if there was a possibility Sokka would stop prying so persistently and they could get on to _actually_ having sex like he wants too, then he’d take it. 

“Sure, go for it.” 

Sokka doesn’t waste a second. He shifts across the mattress until he’s behind Zuko, gently brushing his loose hair away from the skin of his neck. Zuko sighs when he feels the heat Sokka’s lips on him, already well acquainted with the euphoric sensation it fills him with. Sokka continues on, trailing upward until he meets Zuko’s jawline. His fingers wrap around the ends of his long hair, gripping it tightly before roughly tugging his head back. Zuko gasps before he can even catch himself. A moan spills from his mouth as he slams his eyes shut, panting at the sudden wave of arousal that overtakes him. 

“Yep, just like I thought.” Sokka says cockily, leaning close to his ear. “You like it rough, don’t you?”

“Y—you’re playing dirty.” Zuko manages, his voice wavering.

“Uh,  _ yeah,  _ of course I am. That’s kind of the whole idea.” Sokka gives his hair another hard tug, flashing a cocky smile at the whine that leaves Zuko’s mouth. “Hmm, y’know, judging by  _ that _ particular reaction, I think I’m detecting a hint of masochism hidden in there somewhere too.” 

Zuko swallows. Is he  _ that  _ easy to figure out?

“Okay, okay, yes! I like rough sex. You’ve made your point!” Zuko admits, squirming in his hold. “Now let go of my hair. I don’t need a headache during the stream.” 

Sokka does as he’s told, releasing his grip as he takes back his original spot on the bed. Zuko makes a few more adjustments to the camera and chat settings before glancing over at him, hovering the mouse over the “live” button in the corner of the screen. 

“Are you ready?” 

Sokka nods, flashing two thumbs up. “As I’ll ever be.” 

Zuko returns the nod and looks back, launching the stream before sitting back on the bed. Within a minute or so, he sees his regulars filing in along with the usual onslaught of guest accounts. As the number of watchers steeply increases, typical messages begin to trickle in. His eyes skim through the normal “hellos” and “hi’s” and Zuko raises his hand, waving at the camera. 

“Hey, Blue here.” He says. “Thanks for tuning in again. How are you guys doing tonight?” 

**_Guest89626478: “Tired.”_ **

**_Jahzan1: “^^^”_ **

**_KK1987: “Better now that you’re online :)”_ **

“Thanks. I’m glad to hear that.” He scans through the incoming chat messages before looking away, glancing over at Sokka. “I’m doing something a little different today that I hope you guys will enjoy.” 

Zuko motions for him to come closer and Sokka slides back into frame, smiling nervously as he takes a seat next to him on the bed. The chat immediately lights up with a flood of messages, all eager for more information on who the new face is. 

**_Guest89626478: “Cute boy”_ **

**_KK1987: “who’s the hunk”_ **

**_GymDick324: “never seen him before is he new”_ **

“Yeah, he is new.” Zuko answers. “This is So—“ 

He catches himself, cutting off the last half of his word. The sudden realization that they had gone over every detail related to camming under the sun before the stream but had  _ somehow  _ forgotten to discuss a stage name comes crashing into Zuko's brain. He feels like a complete idiot. He’d nearly blurted out Sokka’s real name on instinct and potentially drawn them both a shit storm of privacy issues all because one little important detail had slipped his mind. 

Zuko looks over at Sokka, urging him with his eyes to give him a hand. 

“Oh, I’m— uh,” He hesitates. “...Red.” 

Zuko narrows his eyes and slightly parts his lips, furrowing his brow in a way that the question “ _ really?”  _ is written all over his face. Sokka looks back with a nervous grin and a shrug, speaking quietly to Zuko. 

“I’m not good when I’m put on the spot, okay? You didn’t say I had to be creative.” 

Zuko’s gaze lingers on him for a few more disbelieving seconds before he glances back at the camera. 

“Um, yeah. This is Red.” He says. “He’s gonna be joining me in tonight’s stream.”

The chat typically moved fast, but Zuko’s having trouble keeping up with the influx of messages that pour in. He definitely still had his worries about whether or not performing with a partner would be well received by his audience. Judging by the overwhelming amount of excitement exuding out of the chat, however, his initial fear is subsiding far quicker than he’d imagined. 

**_Kyle_the_man: “Red is so hot. Beautiful body.”_ **

**_Guest38989838: “Wanna see his cock.”_ **

Zuko peeks at Sokka’s reaction from the corner of his eye and notes the slight peach tone brimming under his skin. He already had a hunch his audience would like him. Zuko hasn’t exactly been very vocal about it, but he finds Sokka  _ incredibly  _ attractive. From his strong, toned arms to his broad shoulders, to that gorgeous smile he has— Sokka deserves every single compliment that pours out from the chat. 

He knows Sokka’s boundless confidence could withstand the apocalypse, but Zuko had a feeling that it might take a little bit for him to fully relax and be comfortable on camera. The world knows how long it’d taken Zuko to perform without anxiety overtaking him. This was new territory for Sokka, and it’s not a surprise that he’s a little flustered. 

“You’ll get to see it later on, don't worry.” Zuko says, resting a hand on Sokka’s bare thigh. “Right Red?” 

He shakes his head, breaking through the haze of timidity over his mind. His eyes dart to Zuko’s hand and back up to his face, smiling lightly as he answers. 

“It’d be pretty impressive if I got through this whole stream without showing them my dick at least once.”

Zuko smirks back. He can tell Sokka’s beginning to shake off some of his stage fright and settle back into his usual charismatic demeanor. The stream goes on for a few more minutes; Zuko’s audience was typically very friendly for the most part. Incredibly horny, but still friendly. They toss out a few questions about Sokka that he happily answers, grinning cockily as he tells the chat that  _ yes,  _ he does go to the gym. And yes, he  _ does  _ have nice shoulders, doesn’t he? Zuko gets the urge to roll his eyes, but it’s a whisper in the back of his mind. Seeing Sokka mesh so well with his viewers is beyond a relief; camming together regularly might actually be a smoother transition than he’d anticipated. 

As much as it pleases him to watch, Zuko doesn’t want Sokka to get too caught up in talking about himself. He could go on for hours if left unchecked, and Zuko’s growing far too impatient to keep letting Sokka socialize with the chat while he  _ could  _ have his hands all over him. 

Zuko hand slides up his thigh and settles in Sokka’s crotch, lightly palming him through his boxers as he leans into his neck.

“I—  _ mmm—“  _

Sokka’s words taper off into a quiet moan, his head lulling to the side as he takes in the sensation of Zuko slowly working him to his full length. Zuko presses his lips to Sokka’s neck, beginning a trail of hot, slow kisses up to his jaw. He revels in the same woody, salty, oceanic scent he’d picked up on the last time he’d buried his face in Sokka’s skin. It’s become nearly intoxicating for him to take in-- something about how it radiates off Sokka’s body reminds Zuko of how close they are, how he’ll be immersed in the aroma when Sokka holds him down and takes him like he had before. Zuko groans softly thinking about it, lifting his lips from his neck before letting them brush against his ear. 

_ “Touch me.”  _

He feels Sokka shudder against him, his cock pulsing at the airiness of his voice. Zuko pulls back as Sokka turns his head to face him, capturing his lips as his hand snakes into Zuko’s lap. It finds purchase on his blossoming erection and grips it through his boxers, languidly stroking up and down as Zuko leans into the kiss. He shoves his tongue into Sokka’s mouth without hesitation, earning a quiet noise of surprise in response. For once, Zuko swipes the upperhand before Sokka can. He takes control of the kiss, lapping at every inch of Sokka’s mouth, groaning at the feeling of his wet, hot tongue gliding along his own. Zuko tightens his grip on his next stroke, forcing a sharp, pointed exhale out from Sokka’s nose. 

_ “Baby,”  _ He breathes between kisses, his free hand reaching up to cup Zuko’s cheek. 

“ _ Fuck--”  _ Zuko moans carnally. “I love hearing you call me that.” 

“Yeah? You do?” 

“So fucking much--” His breath hitches and he slams his eyes shut, gasping at the feeling of being gripped tighter. “ _ Shit-- _ ” 

“Uh-uh, look at me.” Sokka commands, tilting his chin up. “Eyes on me, angel.” 

Zuko has to bite back the urge to moan his real name as he does what he’s told. It’s on the tip of his tongue but he swallows it back down, opting to dig his free fingers into Sokka’s bare thigh instead. The look in Sokka’s eyes is  _ insatiable,  _ overflowing with desire and hyper focused on every little detail in Zuko’s flushed expression. He keeps his gaze fixed on Sokka as he lets go of his leg, taking hold of his wrist instead. Zuko guides his hand up towards his mouth, letting his tongue usher Sokka’s thumb past his lips. Hunger flickers in Sokka’s eyes as he sucks wetly at it, mirroring what he’d done during their first practice round. Zuko’s cock twitches and Sokka grits his teeth, pressing his thumb deeper into Zuko’s mouth. 

“God, you’re such a fucking slut.” Sokka bites his lip, satisfied at how Zuko moans through his nose. “And you know that, don’t you?” 

He opens his mouth, breathing heavily as Sokka drags his hand out. “Y-yeah, I do.” 

He’s never seen Sokka this riled up before and it’s  _ exhilarating. _ If him sucking on his fingers elicited  _ this  _ strong of a reaction, Zuko can only imagine how he’ll react to the toy he’d slipped inside himself before they’d even  _ seen _ each other that night. 

A high-pitched chime pulls their attention away from each other. They look over at the screen of Zuko’s laptop, noting the red banner that’s appeared at the top of the chat. 

“ **TIP GOAL MET: 1000 TOKENS; BLOWJOB”**

Shock spreads across Zuko’s face. He usually met tip tiers fairly quick, but not less than ten minutes into a stream. He looks over at Sokka and then back at the screen, unable to hide the surprised tone in his voice. 

“Wow, you guys really do wanna see his dick, huh?” Zuko asks, receiving a surge of affirmations in response. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever reached a goal.” 

Sokka raises a brow and chuckles, holding a hand to his chest. “Well I’m  _ flattered _ .” He says, meeting Zuko’s eyes. “I hope you guys like it as much as Blue does.” 

He stands from the bed, tugging gently on Sokka’s arms to nudge him to do the same. Zuko notes the sweat on Sokka's brow as he stands barely an inch from him, letting his hands drag down his arms as he sinks down onto his knees. The muscles of his forearms feel corded with tension and Zuko can tell his focus is fixed on keeping himself composed. Although he understands  _ why  _ he’s trying to, “calm and collected” Sokka isn’t what he wants. Zuko  _ wants  _ Sokka to grab at his hair-- to moan at how good his mouth feels and call him a  _ brat.  _ He’s going to get him to that point one way or another. 

Zuko checks to make sure the both of them are still in frame. After a few seconds of repositioning themselves, he looks up at the wanton eyes drinking in every inch of him. His fingers hook in the waistband of Sokka’s boxers and slowly drag them down, halting when his erection springs free from its confines. Zuko genuinely feels his mouth  _ water  _ at the sight and chides himself for having  _ this  _ little self control already. He’s already seen it twice by this point. Why is Sokka’s dick still evoking such a  _ visceral  _ reaction from him? 

**_Guest38989838: “Nice cock”_ **

Sokka grins so wide that his cheeks look like they might hurt. 

“Thanks,” He says proudly, placing his hands on his hips. “Grew it myself.” 

Zuko barks out a laugh before he can catch himself. He realizes far too long after he’s snorted that he can’t stifle his outburst and he turns his head away from the camera, attempting to compose himself as quickly as he can muster. 

“Hold on, I can’t believe this.” Sokka teases, leaning around to see Zuko's face. “Did I actually manage to get you laughing at one of my stupid jokes on  _ camera _ ?”

“Yeah, you did. Congrats.” He swallows his last chuckle, smirking as he slowly strokes at Sokka’s cock. “What do you want, a cookie for it?” 

Sokka shakes his head, chuckling. “No, but I do want you to know that I’m never letting this go.” 

“Fine,  _ fine, _ you win.” Zuko rolls his eyes, stroking harder as he faces back toward him. “Can I suck your dick now? Or do you need another minute to get your ego in check?” 

Sokka narrows his eyes and purses his lips, his hand slipping into Zuko’s loose hair. His fist closes tightly around his locks and Zuko gasps quietly, instinctually opening his mouth as Sokka presses the head of his cock against his lips. 

“Nah, I don’t.” He says, his gaze unmoving. “Now be good and stick out your tongue for me.” 

Heat flutters through Zuko’s chest. Sokka is clearly still testing the waters with just how rough can actually be, but  _ God.  _ The combination of Sokka’s authoritative tone and firm grip is giving Zuko chills. He does what he’s told without much hesitation, sighing through his nose when he finally feels the weight of Sokka's cock on his tongue. 

His best course of action is nearly torturing Sokka in the beginning, wrapping his lips taut around the head of his cock, swirling and lapping at the salty drop of pre-cum he’d missed out on the last time. Zuko makes an absolute show out of getting all of him in his mouth; Sokka’s cock pushes the limits of how much his jaw can take, it fills his mouth entirely to the brim and gives him the obscene feeling of being used to Sokka’s liking. He lets him push about halfway in before pulling off to lick wet stripes up the sides of his shaft. Sokka’s hand is tight in his hair, clutching onto the fraying threads keeping his composure in check. 

The loud alert of a tip coming through draws their attention. Zuko squints, scanning the message as he pulls off Sokka with a wet “pop”. 

**“TallMister703 tipped 1000 tokens”**

**_TallMister703: “fuck his face”_ **

Sokka’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks at Zuko for approval. “...Uh—“ 

“It’s fine.” He cuts him off, dropping his hands to the floor as he stares up with lust-filled eyes. “I promise.”

He swears the look on Sokka's face when he finally processes his words is one of pure and utter awe. Hesitantly, he guides Zuko’s face back down on his cock, giving himself enough buffer to fully adjust to how good Zuko's mouth feels around him. He slowly picks up the pace, steadily thrusting in and out.

Zuko lets Sokka maneuver him completely, quietly moaning through his nose as the head of his cock presses against the back of his throat. Zuko’s not even sure why he loves giving head so much. It probably has something to do with the other thousand and one kinks he’d developed over time. All he does know is that something about being used like this-- being used by  _ Sokka--  _ arouses the  _ hell  _ out of him, and hearing the guttural groans Sokka lets out in response only fuels him even more.

“Aw  _ fuck,”  _ He chokes out, running his tongue across his bottom lip as he pulls Zuko back. “I feel like if we keep going I’m gonna come.” 

“That’s okay.” Zuko replies, catching his breath. “We’ve got an hour. You can bounce back before then, right?” 

Sokka blinks. “... _ Yeah _ , I can...”

“Good.” He leans forward, nudging Sokka’s cock with his lips. “I’m sure everyone would love to watch you come all over my face anyways.” 

The arousal definitely has an effect on Sokka’s processing speed. All he can do is stare back at Zuko with a slightly agape mouth, breathing shallowly as he scans over his expectant face. 

“Well?” Zuko finally asks, smirking slightly. “What are you waiting for--” 

His quip is cut short by Sokka roughly shoving his cock back into his mouth, his grip wrenched in Zuko’s hair as his throat involuntarily spasms around the head. The new pace he picks up is far more aggressive than before, nearly pulling tears from Zuko’s eyes as he bucks his hips relentlessly into his mouth. He can barely see Sokka through his watery, bleary vision, but from what he can make out, his eyes are dazed and hungry; absolutely transfixed on how lewd Zuko looks gagging on his dick. 

“So fucking pretty...” Sokka says lowly, momentarily slowing his pace to savor the feeling of Zuko’s tongue gliding along his shaft. “God, your mouth is perfect.” 

Zuko lowers his eyelids, locking eyes with Sokka as he hollows his cheeks. Sokka grunts and tenses up a bit, switching back to his initial technique of holding Zuko’s head in place while thrusting into his throat. Zuko squeezes his eyes shut, focusing entirely on taking every inch of Sokka’s cock into his mouth. The sudden moan he lets out catches Zuko off guard and Sokka yanks him off completely, quickly replacing Zuko’s mouth with his own hand. 

“Shit, shit,  _ shit.”  _ He says, rapidly jerking his cock, “Fuck, stick out your tongue, I’m gonna come.  _ Fuck--”  _

Zuko’s eyes widen and he eagerly holds out his tongue, flinching slightly when Sokka finally covers his face with seemingly endless ropes of cum. Sokka head lulls back and moans into the ceiling, his voice jumping in pitch with every spurt that leaves his system. Zuko sighs contentedly at the salty taste that fills his mouth, licking up the stray drops that coat his chin. Sokka catches his breath as he comes down from his high, casting his gaze down at the mess he’s made on Zuko’s face. 

“...Fuck.” Sokka trails off, reaching out to swipe his fingertips across Zuko’s chin. He presses two slick fingers back into his mouth, prompting him to suck them clean before drawing them back out. “You’re doing  _ so  _ fucking good for me, Blue.” 

Zuko’s eyelids droop and his face tinges pink as he lazily smiles back up at him. Sokka chuckles under his breath and smirks, studying Zuko’s flushed expression. 

“You know, if I had known you were capable of being  _ this  _ slutty during our last round, I would’ve lost my shit.” He says. “No more holding out on me, okay?” 

Zuko snickers and cocks his head to the side. “What if I do? What are you gonna do? Punish me?” 

“...I dunno, maybe not tonight,” His smirk widens. “But if you’re still being shy by this time next week, some disciplinary action  _ might _ be in order.” 

Just as Zuko goes to respond, the familiar alert of a tip goal being met draws their attention away from one another. 

**TIP GOAL MET: 3000 TOKENS: JERKING OFF + TOYS**

Zuko’s astonished yet again. He’d set the tip goals higher than he normally would just to test the waters, so he could see how well streaming with Sokka could actually benefit his income. On a good night, he’d typically reach that goal by the  _ end  _ of the stream. They were barely twenty minutes in. 

_ ‘Yeah’  _ Zuko thinks.  _ ‘This was a good idea.’  _

Sokka glances down at him, his brow raised. “I’m excited, but full disclosure, I’ve never used a toy on myself in my life.” 

“I mean, I was under the impression you’d be using one on  _ me.”  _

He blinks. “Oh! Yeah, okay. Totally. Alright, that makes more sense. I can definitely do that.” 

Zuko notes the slight blush that spreads across his cheeks. Sokka’s obviously a little flustered by the idea, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it a bit cute. 

“It’s nothing intimidating, I promise.” He tells him, climbing to his feet. “You’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly.” 

“I sure hope so.” Sokka lets out a nervous chuckle. “So, where are these bad boys at?” 

Zuko drags the box containing his toys out from under the bed. He fishes through it aimlessly, pausing when he lays eyes on the gag he’d mentioned to Sokka a few days before. He mulls over the thought for a few moments before pushing it aside. He decides that he’ll worry about how much noise he makes some other night. The last thing he needs to be through the streams duration is stressed out and preoccupied with something else 

Once he finds what he’s looking for, a breath of relief leaves his chest. He’d already planned to use this particular toy days in advance, but he’s still not prepared for the flutter in his stomach at the thought of using it again. He tosses it across the mattress and sets the box back down, shoving it back into its place before maneuvering across the bed.

Zuko lies back, watching intently as Sokka climbs overtop of him. He hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of Zuko’s boxers and drags them over his hips, biting the inside of his cheek at the sight of his achingly hard cock. He haphazardly pulls them fully over Zuko’s legs and tosses them aside, swiftly returning to the task at hand. 

Sokka lowers his head, sinking down to nudge Zuko’s thighs apart. He presses a few slow, leisurely kisses to the juncture of his thigh and pelvis, nipping a bit with his teeth just to see Zuko’s reaction. He flinches, clenching his fist and letting his head fall back against the pillow. He’s so hypersensitive under Sokka’s touch-- no matter where it is on his body. Whether it’s a small peck or open mouthed kiss pressed searingly into his skin, it makes him shiver with need  _ every  _ single time. 

Sokka hooks his hands under Zuko’s hips to pull him forward, guiding him onto his back fully as he holds his knees back toward his chest. He casts his vision downward and Sokka stop dead, his eyes wide and unmoving on the sight between Zuko’s legs. 

“....I-- you--” 

“What?” 

Sokka’s eyes cut back and forth from Zuko’s face. “W-- when did you put a buttplug in?” 

Zuko smiles slightly, amused at Sokka’s mystified expression. “Before the stream.” 

“Zu-- you--” He stutters. “You had this in the  _ whole  _ time?” 

Zuko nods. “I thought it’d save us some time, you know?” 

He can’t quite tell what’s going through Sokka’s head, but he knows he’s thinking. Sokka had that same calculating look on his face he got whenever his brain couldn’t figure out how to react in a situation. All his attention is fixed on the protrusion between Zuko’s legs. He’s almost concerned with how long Sokka stays silent, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, Sokka’s arm moves from his leg. A split second later, Zuko’s breath hitches at the feeling of himself being stretched. He grits his teeth and wrenches his fist in the pillowcase, panting as the sensation only intensifies. 

Sokka looks as if he’s in a trance. His eyes are locked on the plug as he slowly pulls it out, mumbling a quiet ‘ _ fuck’  _ to himself when the widest point stretches Zuko  _ obscenely _ . It pops out after a small snag of resistance, leaving Sokka to marvel at the work left in its wake. 

“...Holy  _ shit,”  _ He lets it fall from his grasp, instantly pressing two fingers deep into Zuko’s ass. “You’re gonna drive me insane, Blue.” 

He moans as they thrust in and out, curling upward on every drawback. “I--  _ fuck--  _ could say the same--  _ ah!”  _

Sokka’s eyes cut over to the chat, catching a message that flashes by. 

**_Kyle_the_man: “Blue sounds so fucking hot. Moans like a whore. Perfect”_ **

He looks back over, watching Zuko’s face intently as he roughly thrusts his fingers back in. Zuko gasps and chokes out a whine, his breath wavering as Sokka leans in close. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” He says. “He’s a screamer-- he can barely shut up when he’s got something up his ass--” 

“Sok--” Zuko clamps a hand over his mouth, moaning Sokka’s name into his palm as his fingers slide down to rub at his prostate. He blatantly admits to himself that he wishes they weren’t livestreaming-- for the sole reason that Zuko  _ desperately _ wants to say Sokka’s name. It rolls off his tongue like it’s nothing. It’s the only coherent thought that Zuko can get out of his mouth when his mind goes blank from pleasure-- when  _ Sokka’s  _ all he can think about. 

“Stop covering your  _ mouth.”  _ Sokka tells him, reaching up to pry it free. “Everyone wants to hear you. I  _ need  _ to hear you.” 

Zuko can barely fathom how  _ much  _ all of this is. He’s done this before, plenty of times. He’s fingered himself, jerked himself off, done nearly everything under the sun to himself-- and somehow Sokka’s fingers alone are shredding every last bit of his self control. It feels like way too much. Every thrust into his prostate makes the room spin around him-- and Sokka’s fucking  _ voice.  _ That low, domineering tone he takes on every time he’s got Zuko underneath him. It makes a wave of intoxicating arousal rise so high up in Zuko’s body that he can barely stay still. 

“Fuck, you’re shaking.” Sokka pants, his eyelids heavy as he stares up at him. “Are you gonna come already?” 

Zuko groans. “I-- I’m really close--” 

“You can come without me touching you, right?” He nods weakly, and Sokka picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Come on then, give it to me. Come on my fingers-- make a fucking mess for me--” 

“I-- I--” Zuko moans from the back of his throat, gritting his teeth as his climax overtakes him. “Fuck--  _ fuck!”  _

A pump of come spurts out across his chest, narrowly missing his chin as the next spurt splatters against his stomach. He feels like he might pull a muscle with how tight his body tenses up, only releasing when the final wave of his orgasm tapers off. Zuko’s breath racks his chest as he finally opens his eyes, glancing down at Sokka’s pleased expression. 

“Uh--” Zuko says. “You’ve...got come in your hair.” 

Sokka furrows his brows and reaches up, surprised to find that Zuko’s telling the truth. He shrugs, removing his other hand from inside him. “Eh, I’ll worry about it later.” He says. “There’s probably more where that came from anyway. I’m nowhere  _ near  _ done with you.” 

Zuko’s face flushes pink as Sokka searches around the bed, feeling for the toy he’d grabbed earlier. He takes hold of it and spreads on a gracious amount of lube, carefully examining the myriad of buttons on its side. 

“Uh, how do I use this?” Sokka asks, randomly pressing at it. “Wait, is it this bu-- oh shit!” He jumps back, startled by the intensity of the toy’s vibration. “Jesus Christ--” 

“It’s a really strong toy.” 

“Uh, yeah, I can see that.” He replies, scoffing. “You  _ legitimately  _ put this up your ass? For  _ fun? _ This feels like it could be a weapon.” 

Zuko lowers his brow. “It  _ will  _ become a weapon if you don’t put it in me soon.” 

Sokka sputters out a laugh, covering his mouth slightly. “This is a whole new level of impatience, Blue.” 

“I haven’t used it in a while.” He says, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “I think I have the right to be a little antsy.” 

“Well then, I think a reunion is most  _ certainly  _ in order.” Sokka grins. “Hold yourself open.” Zuko inhales longingly through his nose as he obliges him, slipping his hands around his thighs to spread himself. “Mmm, yeah, just like that.” 

Sokka scoots forward on his knees, setting one hand on Zuko’s knee while experimentally pressing the vibrator against Zuko’s entrance, not enough to breach the outer rim, but enough to send a palpable shiver down Zuko’s spine. A soft moan slips from his mouth and he blinks lazily, looking down as Sokka twirls his wrist. He uses the slightest bit of pressure, slowly rubbing circles against him with the toy. 

He’s never seen Sokka so hyper focused before. His eyes are locked on the display between his legs, his jaw hanging slightly open as he drinks in the sight. Zuko  _ almost  _ lets him stay mesmerized like this, but like he’d said before, he’s  _ antsy,  _ and he needs Sokka to hurry up and move things along for his own sanity. Zuko lifts a hand from his cheek and takes hold of Sokka’s wrist, guiding it forward with a surprising amount of force. He lets out a breathy sigh, his eyes shutting tight as it slips inside.The second the curved, blunt end glides across his prostate, he moans wantonly, slowly rocking his hips up into the sensation. 

_ Fuck,  _ it had been a while, far too long in Zuko’s opinion. This toy in particular is one he more or less  _ had  _ to use sparingly. The sheer intensity of it is enough to have him coming like a fire hose in minutes. In addition to that, it always seemed to be a hit with his audience. Spacing out the frequency in which he used it definitely prompted them to tip more when he actually did pull it out. Zuko feels Sokka’s wrist begin to move on its own and he lets go of him, allowing him to take the reins back again. 

“Like this?” Sokka asks, mimicking Zuko’s motions. 

He nods, still rolling his hips up. “Yeah, that’s good--  _ really  _ good.  _ God.”  _

A stream of tips quickly file in, filling the room with back to back chimes. 

**_KK1987: “Blue always sounds so hot using that toy.”_ **

**_Kyle_The_Man: “Make him scream, Red.”_ **

Sokka briefly scans over the messages and looks back over at Zuko. “Does this really make you scream, baby?”

He barely manages a nod. “A-- almost always.” 

“Hm, you seem pretty quiet right now.” Sokka comments, his thumb hovering over the side buttons. “We should fix that, shouldn’t we?” 

Before Zuko can get a word out, the strength of the vibrator steeply jumps up, ripping a loud, drawn out moan from his throat. “Fuck! Fuck--  _ fuck!”  _

“ _ That’s  _ better.” Sokka smiles mischievously, rubbing the toy in firm, quick circles. “How’s that feel? You like it harder like this?” 

“Fuck,  _ yes.  _ So fucking much--” 

He  _ does.  _ Zuko is already sensitive as it is, and this is barreling him toward a completely incoherent state of mind. Sokka had caught on to this  _ insanely  _ fast and it feels like he knows exactly how to use it. It’s reminiscent of Zuko’s own technique, but somehow  _ so  _ much better. Sokka doesn’t have the hesitation he usually does. Zuko  _ has  _ to pace himself with this; the sudden onslaught of an premature orgasm would crash into him otherwise. Sokka’s relentless, however. He’s fueled by the unabated desire to drive Zuko absolutely out of his mind, and like  _ hell  _ is he going to stop him now. The knowledge alone that  _ Sokka’s  _ the one pleasuring him so unbelievably well amplifies every single burst of arousal even more _. _

“Red,  _ Red,  _ oh my  _ God.  _ That feels so fucking good-- _ ”  _ He convulses, tossing his head back as he clenches his jaw. His voice jumps up and cracks with the whine that spills out, his thighs buckling inward to squeeze Sokka’s shoulders. “Shit!  _ Ahh-- please!”  _

Sokka groans hungrily, shifting around to wrap a hand around Zuko’s leaking cock. “You’re fucking incredible like this, you know that?” He says, slowly jerking him off. “I’ve never seen someone so hot in my entire  _ life _ . I could get off from just hearing you moan. Shit, I’m already  _ hard  _ again, Blue. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” 

Zuko groans needily. “You-- you can’t just--” 

“I can’t  _ what?”  _

He pants. “Say things like that-- not in that fucking  _ voice--”  _

Sokka laughs through his nose and leans forward, his eyes knowing and smirk mischievous. “Now why would I stop when I can see how much of a mess it makes of you?” He asks, his tone hushed. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad in my entire  _ life,  _ Zuko _. _ ” 

Zuko finally screams when the intensity of the toy jumps up again, arresting his entire body with an overwhelming surge of pleasure. He rolls his hips into the vibrator desperately, his voice wavering with every wave that courses through his body. 

“That’s it, make yourself feel good, baby.  _ Fuck.”  _ Sokka speeds up the pace of his hand. “God, I can’t wait ‘till I’m inside you. I’m gonna fuck you until you don’t even know your own damn name-- gonna fuck you like the  _ slut  _ you are--“ 

“ _ AHH! FUCK!”  _

His second orgasm crashes through his system, catching Zuko off guard with both the quickness of its arrival and its paralyzing strength. He’s used to his climaxes lessening in strength over time, not intensifying in their succession. Zuko braces himself for less; that’s what he expects, so when the sheer pleasure of it all practically lights his entire body on fire, he spasms, letting himself be completely overtaken as a broken whine tears from his throat. 

Zuko doesn’t even register that he’s kneed Sokka in the chest until he hears him wheeze violently, holding his stomach while he regains his bearings. 

“Holy shit-- are you okay?” Zuko jumps up, scrambling to his aid. “I’m so sorry-- it happened before I even realized it--” 

“Don’t sweat it--” Sokka coughs a bit, holding out a hand. “It was worth it.” 

“Are you sure? Do you need a second?” 

“ _ Blue,  _ listen to me.” His tone shifts, the determination evident in his voice. “If seeing you lose your fucking  _ mind  _ when you come means I might get banged up a little bit, then feel free to use me as your personal punching bag. I’ll  _ gladly  _ take one for the team.”

Despite his reluctance, Zuko takes Sokka’s word, shifting up onto his knees as they look over at the chat. 

**_TallMister703: “Red needs to fuck him ASAP.”_ **

“You are absolutely right, TallMister.” Sokka says, looking Zuko up and down. “So many positions to choose from, though. I don’t think I wanna fuck in missionary again. As good as you look on your back, I think I wanna spice things a little.” 

Zuko raises a brow. “How so?” 

“Well, although I’m incredibly well-versed in fucking in every position under the sun, doggy-style is where I shine the  _ most--”  _

Zuko tunes out after those words leave Sokka’s mouth. He’d thought about having sex in that position with him far more than he’d like to admit, and hearing Sokka suggest that they do just that flusters Zuko so much he needs a second to process it. 

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and takes it upon himself to shift onto his stomach, lying with his ass in the air and chest flush against the mattress. He props himself up on his forearms and looks back over his shoulder, casually tucking his hair behind his ear. 

“How’s this?” 

Sokka’s jaw clenches up as he moves to grip his asscheeks. “Holy shit-- Z-- Blue-- you have an  _ incredible  _ ass. Jesus  _ Christ-- _ ” 

Zuko can’t hide his smirk as he chuckles. He knows he has absolutely  _ no  _ reason to be coy about this-- he’d been camming for months. The amount of desperately horny men that commented on his body is probably in the hundreds. Hearing it from Sokka feels different, however. It gives Zuko the burning urge to look away because he  _ knows  _ he’s blushing. 

“You think so?” 

“Uh,  _ yeah,  _ I do.” Sokka replies, spreading him slightly. “God, I’m not gonna last long fucking you in this position.” 

Zuko scoffs. “ _ Really?”  _

“Listen, if you could see yourself from this angle, you’d understand.”

Speaking of fucking him...

Zuko glances over at the chat again, eyeing the tip counter as it gradually creeps up. They were close to the next goal, but still had a decent amount to go. He’d gone back and forth on setting the “FULL-ON FUCK” goal at such a high amount. He wasn’t entirely sure that they’d even reach it, but if he was going to have Sokka as his co-star, he might as well try and make the most out of it. If anything, Sokka seems a bit impatient too, pursing his lips as he watches the screen carefully. 

“Come on, don’t you guys want me to fuck him?” He asks, taking hold of Zuko’s hips. “You guys thought he was loud before? Well lemme tell ya’, Blue here barely had a voice left the last time we fucked.” 

“ _ Red, _ ” 

“What? It’s true!” He says, positioning himself between Zuko’s legs. “I  _ particularly  _ recall him screaming my name until his voice cracked.” 

Zuko almost quips out a response, but the feeling of the head of Sokka’s cock rubbing against his entrance quickly shuts him up. He lets out a shaky moan and rocks back into him, coaxing Sokka to rut himself between Zuko’s slick cheeks. 

“Fuck--” Sokka groans, glancing downward. “S--see? Look at how--  _ shit _ \-- horny he is for it.” 

Zuko  _ is  _ horny. He’s so overwhelmingly turned on that he’s one jolt of arousal away from saying ‘screw the tip goal’ all together and pushing himself back onto Sokka’s cock. His patience is nearly spent and Sokka’s stellar performance isn’t making it any easier for him to keep it together. He just wants his dick  _ inside  _ him already-- he wants to be split open and so full that it makes his head spin. Waiting on his audience to make up their minds is grinding Zuko’s nerves into  _ dust.  _

Sokka’s been so good at keeping his composure that it surprises Zuko when he feels the blunt, leaking head of his cock press past the outer rim of his asshole. He gasps, snapping his eyes wide as he grips the sheets. 

“Red-- not  _ yet-- _ ” 

“Not. Gonna fuck you,” Sokka says through his teeth, pulling back out. “Just teasing.” 

Zuko whines in discontent as he repeats the motion. “Don’t fucking  _ tease  _ me--” 

Sokka’s chest meets his back as he leans over him, angling his head close enough to Zuko’s ear for him to hear when he whispers. 

“Stop being a brat.” The seriousness in his tone sends a shiver down Zuko’s spine. “Just trust me, okay? You’re really hot when you’re desperate. They’ll tip more once they see you begging for it.”

“Trust  _ you _ ?  _ I’m _ the one with experience doing this--” Zuko cuts himself off when Sokka presses back in with more force, moaning as he shoves his face in the pillow. He can’t fight the urge to push back against him, groaning irritably when Sokka pulls away. 

“Yeah, like that. Show me how much you want it.” He tells him, shallowly thrusting in and out. “You do want it, don’t you Blue?” 

“I swear to God, So--” Zuko buries his face again, arching his back as the head brushes against his prostate. “ _ Fuck!”  _

“Don’t be mad at me, be mad at  _ them.”  _ Sokka says, tilting his head towards the computer. “Seems like they can’t tell how bad you wanna be fucked.” He snakes a hand across Zuko’s back, reaching up to grab a fistful of his hair. He yanks his head up in one sharp motion, forcing a gasp from Zuko’s chest. “Why don’t you tell them, huh? You want me to fill you up? So I can fuck you stupid?” 

Zuko’s body feels like it's on  _ fire.  _ The frustration of not being able to sit back on Sokka’s cock like he wants to is  _ agonizing _ . That same euphoria he’d felt the last time they’d fucked is just  _ barely  _ out of reach and his audience is the one with the upperhand. Zuko’s pride begs him to keep his mouth shut, but he  _ can’t _ . He needs Sokka too much to let that side take control right now. 

“Yes.  _ Fuck yes. _ ” Zuko admits, his voice weak. “ _ Please-- _ fuck me. I need your cock so  _ fucking  _ bad, Red. I’m gonna go crazy without it.”

The tip goal alert rings through the room and Zuko nearly cries tears of joy at the sound of it, thankful that Sokka can finally stop  _ torturing  _ him.

“Thank God.” Sokka breathes a sigh of relief. “I’ve been waiting for this all damn  _ week.”  _

When he finally pushes in, Zuko can’t even control the loud, drawn out noise of pleasure that he lets out. The feeling of Sokka’s thick cock has him in ecstasy, and the stretch so satisfying that his eyes roll back in his head. They fall shut as he slowly presses in, his mouth hanging slightly ajar. 

“ _ Red.”  _ Zuko drags out his name in a low moan. “Feels--  _ incredible.”  _

Sokka digs his fingers into his hips, his head tossed back as Zuko’s warmth and tightness consumes him. “Fuck, I missed this.”    
  
They both utter a low, satiated groan as their hips meet, taking a moment just to savor the sensation of being intertwined with one another again. 

**_TallMister703: “Blue looks so hot taking that huge cock.”_ **

Sokka catches the message in the corner of his eye and exhales heavily, pulling back to roughly thrust back into Zuko. “He does, doesn’t he?” He says, repeating the motion as he leans over. “And he loves every fucking  _ inch  _ of it.” 

Zuko buries his head into the pillow again, moaning with every hard thrust, bristling at the feeling of Sokka pressing searing, open mouthed kisses into the crook of his neck. 

_ “Sokkuh,” _ He says, his voice muffled in the fabric of the pillow case. He can’t help but groan it out; he knows his audience won’t be able to make out his name with how indiscernible it sounds through a layer of cloth and cotton. Sokka’s close enough to hear it loud and clear, however, and the reaction it elicits from him is practically instant. 

“Fuck, say it again—“ He tells Zuko, speeding up his pace. “Just for me— I love hearing you moan my name.” 

“Sokkuh!” He whines again, his voice wavering with the force of each thrust. “Luhv it— when you—“ 

Sokka jerks his head up by his hair and Zuko cries out. “Speak up. What do you love?”

“When you— fuck me like this!” He pants. “So fucking much— holy  _ shit.”  _

“I told you I was gonna fuck you like the slut you are.” Sokka growls. “I wish you could see yourself, bent over and taking my dick like fucking  _ champ.”  _

Zuko’s not even sure that’s true. His laundry list of sexual expirmentation is expansive, but sex with Sokka is an  _ entirely  _ different experience. Even with the bigger toys he owns,  _ he’s  _ in control. Zuko can decide whether or not he wants to fuck himself to hell and back with them. Sokka’s got him pinned to the bed, whimpering at being called a “slut” while pounding him so rough and deep with Zuko can barely even process how overwhelming it feels. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s never taken a dick this big by someone who  _ actually  _ knows how to use it. 

Sokka’s hand grips his hair again, turning his head far enough around to capture his lips in a sloppy kiss. Zuko moans and gasps into it, hardly catching his breath as Sokka intrudes his mouth, completely overtaking Zuko’s tongue with his own. He slams into him and stays in place, grinding his hips against him in a steady, fluid motion. 

“Shit, shit--  _ fuck!”  _ Zuko cries out, breaking the kiss. “It’s so—” 

“ _ Deep _ . I know, baby.” Sokka finishes, his hands braced on Zuko’s shoulders as he grinds in again. “He loves it like this. Just  _ look  _ at him.”

**_Guest243779000: “Wish you would fuck me like that Red.”_ **

**_TallMister703: “Blue is so lucky.”_ **

**_KK1987: “I would give anything to pound Blue.”_ **

“I bet you would.” Sokka replies, smirking at the camera. “Unfortunately for you, he’s  _ mine _ ,” He pulls his hips back and picks up his pace, thrusting into Zuko like his life depends on it. “ _ I’m _ the only one who gets to fuck him like this.” 

Zuko moans at that, rocking back on his knees to meet Sokka’s thrusts. The impact of it sends pangs of arousal through his groin, forcing out a string of broken, weak whines. 

**_Guest38989838: “Give it to him Red.”_ **

**_Jahzan1: “Wanna see that pretty fucking face.”_ **

Sokka obliges the chat, reaching around to take hold of Zuko’s jaw. He yanks him up from his forearms to his hands, forcibly turning his head towards the computer. 

“Come on Blue, you see what they’re saying?” Sokka asks, his grip tight. “Look at the camera so everyone can see how wrecked you are.” 

Even from a distance, Zuko can tell how destroyed he looks in the video feed. His face is fully flushed with a deep rose hue; his eyelids hang low over wide pupils and a few strands of hair cling to his forehead with sweat. Not to mention how raw his lips are from Sokka biting and sucking at them repeatedly. Zuko hasn’t seen himself this roughed up in a  _ long  _ time, and  _ God _ is he glad that Sokka’s the one who made him this way. 

He hadn’t looked at the screen until this point, and the view the audience has is mesmerizing. Zuko’s never cammed with another person before. He hasn’t seen himself getting plowed like this and he’s got a clear view of just how hard Sokka’s fucking him-- how hard he’s gripping his chin. Zuko rarely likes paying that much attention to himself on screen, but watching Sokka fuck the shit out of him is something he can’t look away from. He’s growling overtop of him like a goddamn  _ animal _ and Zuko’s so turned on it  _ hurts.  _ He feels Sokka move behind him, his weight shifting onto one knee. He plants his foot on the bed and pulls back, rapidly pounding into Zuko with the new leverage he has. 

“FUCK!” Zuko blurts out, his mouth hanging open. “Fuck, fuck--  _ FUCK! RED!”  _

“ _ Shit!”  _ Sokka grunts through his teeth, his voice low and primal. “So fucking  _ tight--” _

Zuko wedges his arm beneath himself, wrapping his hand around his cock as it drips with precome. He doesn’t even get one stroke in before Sokka swats his hand away, pinning his wrist against the bed as Zuko groans in dissatisfaction. 

“Let me touch myself!” 

“Fuck no.” Sokka tells him, caging his wrists in tighter, “You’ll come when I say you can.” 

Zuko writhes under his hold. “Red-- come  _ on!”  _

“If you wanna come so bad, do it without touching yourself.” Sokka grunts. “You already proved that you can.” 

“I-- I don’t know if--” 

“Yes, you fucking  _ can.”  _

_ “Red!”  _

He slows his pace, punctuating his words with sharp, hard thrusts. “Come. On my cock. Or you don’t come. At  _ all.”  _

Zuko clenches his jaw, looking back over his shoulder. “Then fuck me  _ harder _ .”

The look of unbridled lust Sokka gives him goes  _ straight  _ to his dick. He braces his hand on Zuko’s back and pulls out, shoving him down into a prone position against the bed with more strength than Zuko knew he had before slamming back in. He cries out at the new angle, nearly sobbing as the head of Sokka’s cock rubs against his prostate with each full thrust. He feels so  _ overstimulated--  _ being filled to the brim over and  _ over  _ while Sokka fucks him with enough force to make him scream, his cock ramming against his most sensitive spot and sending an endless shockwave of pleasure through his entire  _ body.  _ Zuko feels it in his gut first and he tenses up, mindless rutting himself against the bed as he chases his third orgasm. 

He can’t warn Sokka before he’s spasming and painting the bed with come, moaning at the top of his lungs. Zuko bucks his hips with every spurt, not even caring that he’s rubbing a sticky, hot mess into his abs. He doesn’t give a  _ fuck.  _ All he can think about is Sokka still thrusting inside him and milking him dry-- the head of his cock pressing hard into his prostate and frying every single nerve he has left-- how in the  _ world  _ he’s still coming this fucking hard. The euphoria drags on as Sokka doesn’t let up, his hips still slamming against Zuko’s. 

“Fuck,  _ baby— _ you’re clenching me so fucking  _ hard— _ ” Sokka moans, his pace becoming erratic. “Shit-- I’m gonna come. Where do you want it? In or--” 

“ _ In.”  _ Zuko cuts in, his voice hoarse. “Come inside me,  _ please.”  _

The desperation in his voice makes something in Sokka’s brain snap. His fingers dig into the skin of Zuko's back as he slams in deep, bracing himself as his orgasm tears through his body. 

“Oh fuck-- oh  _ fuck-- SHIT!”  _ He swears, bucking against him. “Holy  _ fuck-- Blue!”  _

Zuko feels Sokka’s cock throb with each pump, flexing against his already sensitive walls. He sputters out a shaky, weak moan, reveling in the sensation of being filled to the brim. Sokka thrusts gradually lessen in strength, finally tapering off as he coasts down from his high. They stay in their positions for what feels like ages, catching their breath and reeling themselves back to reality. 

Sokka’s the first to come back to. He blinks lazily and reaches down to lightly tap Zuko’s cheek, speaking quiet enough for only him to hear. “Zuko, are you good?” 

He lets out an exhausted groan, shoving his face back into the pillow. “‘M fine.” 

Sokka takes that as his cue to climb off him, slowly pulling out as to not overstimulate Zuko even further. The head slips free and come spills out of him, steadily dripping down the back of his thighs. Sokka sits back on his knees and glances over at the screen, looking between it and Zuko’s limp form. 

“Uh,  _ well,  _ I sure hope you guys enjoyed that. I know we did. Right Blue?” Zuko doesn’t turn his head as he mumbles into the pillow again, his voice clearly raw and tired. “I’m gonna go ahead and take that as a yes.” 

**_Guest99903924: “Red fucked the shit out of him.”_ **

**_Kyle_The_Man: “Haven’t seen Blue this spent in a while. Fucking incredible.”_ **

Sokka chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I don’t know if he’s gonna get up anytime soon if I’m being honest--” 

“En thuh shream.” 

He looks back over at him. “What?” 

“ _ En,  _ thuh  _ shream.”  _

“Zu-- Blue, stop talking into the pillow, I can’t understand what you’re saying--”

“End the stream, Red.” Zuko snaps, weakly lifting his head. “I can’t stand up.” 

Sokka can’t stop himself from laughing as Zuko shoots him a side-eyed glare. He holds his hands up in defense and slides towards the edge of the bed, still snickering under his breath. “Well, looks like Blue needs some time to recover from all that, so I’m gonna say good night  _ for  _ him.” 

Zuko groans something again and he’s pretty sure it’s along the lines of “Shut the fuck up, Sokka.” He bids the chat adieu and waves as he clicks out of the window, finally leaving the two alone for the night. Sokka turns back towards the bed and holds his hands on his hips, looking over Zuko’s body. 

“I think that went well.”

“‘Well’ is an understatement.” Zuko replies “I’ve never been tipped that much in one night. Ever.” 

“Really?” Sokka asks, a brow raised. “I have no idea what that token rate converts to. How much did we—“ 

“A little over eight hundred.” Zuko mumbles. “Give me a couple days and I send you your half.” 

“You’re  _ shitting _ me!” Sokka’s eyes go wide. “ _ Eight hundred  _ bucks? Zuko, that’s more than I make in two weeks.” 

“Me too.” He says. “I’ve gotta call my friends and thank them. This...this was a really good idea.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” He runs a hand through his hair, wincing at the dampness that covers his fingers. “Alright, I know you’re basically numb right now, but we’re covered in sweat and come. I think we could both use a shower.” 

He rolls over onto his back and makes a noise of discontent. “Please don’t make me move.” 

“I mean, I could always pick you up and drag you in there with me.” 

He narrows his eyes. “I doubt that.” 

“Oh really? You wanna bet?” 

He flinches when Sokka shoves his arms under his torso, roughly attempting to lift him up bridal style from the bed. Zuko squirms in his hold, desperately clinging to Sokka’s body as he drags him off the sheets. 

“Wait-- put me down! Sokka!” 

“No, no, you challenged my word, so naturally I have to prove you wrong.” He says back, flashing a playful smile as he hoists Zuko into his arms. “Come on Zukes, let’s wash the sex-filth off you.” 

Zuko doesn’t even have the energy to protest. He fidgets for a bit as Sokka carries him toward the door but ultimately gives up, relaxing in his hold as they exit the room. 

The hot water seems to soothe his aching muscles as their shower progresses on, so much so that Zuko can stop sitting pitfully at the bottom of the tub. He climbs haphazardly to his feet, bracing himself around Sokka’s shoulders as he leans on him for support. Sokka raises a brow and smirks, reaching around to stroke Zuko’s wet, dark hair as the water runs over them.

“So we’ve upgraded our cuddle sessions to the shower now, huh?” 

“Shush.” Zuko mumbles, pressing his face into the warmth of Sokka’s neck. “I’m tired. Just help me wash my hair, okay?” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for Zuko’s shampoo. “It’s the least I can do. I did this to you, after all.” 

“I said  _ shush _ .” He weakly pushes at Sokka’s face, earning a chuckle in response. 

“Okay, okay, whatever you say.” He says. “Now hold your head under the water.” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays folks. Wasn’t able to respond to comments on the last chapter but thank you kindly for your lovely feedback ✨❤️. Hope y’all enjoyed this update

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Guilty Pleasure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206102) by [RyuuSenai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuSenai/pseuds/RyuuSenai)




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